


The Double Date spinoffs

by Rumpabumbum



Series: The Double Date [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, If you liked Double Date you'll like this, Multi, This is a total fluff fest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 43,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8474518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpabumbum/pseuds/Rumpabumbum
Summary: Prompts based on the Double Date verse. Answering important questions like "Who did Robb end up with? What happens with Margaery's internship? And does Theon eventually get with Daenerys?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 1: Okay okay okay so. Double Date AU, 3/4 years later, sansa and margaery are married, family dinner (like xmas or smth) and then "oh remember that time when robb and theon fake dated ?" (the more info I get on what happened in the 3/4 years or more the more bonus points you get ;) )- technicallypsychiccupcake

As much as they tried, they couldn’t get the pup to stop yipping from inside the box.

“It won’t be much of a surprise if she can’t stay quiet,” said Margaery.

Sansa grasped her beanie and groaned. “Let’s take it around to the backyard. Maybe Robb will let us keep her there.” She picked up the box, careful not to startle the little pup inside, and headed to the backyard followed by an anxious Lady.

 

At six years old, Lady was relatively old for a first time mother. Sansa should have expected this would happen one day, because she could never bring herself to spay Lady. It seemed cruel almost. And it was never a problem until she and Margaery agreed to keep Renly and Loras’s mutt Stag while they went on their honeymoon. The morning after the guys dropped him off, however, she found them doing it like, well, dogs. Lady wore the poor dog out.

Had Sansa realized how difficult keeping her nephew’s Christmas present a surprise would be, she would have bought him the model train. Too late now.

            The backdoor curtains were closed, so Sansa removed the punctured lid of the box and peered at little Lyra. She was shaking, from fear or cold Sansa wasn’t sure. Likely both. Sansa sighed. She couldn’t keep her out here, but Lyra wouldn’t stay quiet enough to bring her in. Sansa stroked her gloved hand against the pup’s back, soothing her.

            “You know, in some places keeping a dog in a box is animal cruelty?” said a familiar voice behind her.

            Sansa smiled to herself and got off her knees. She turned around into an embrace with Robb. “I’ve missed you so much,” she squeezed him hard.

            He chuckled. “I’ve missed you too, Sansa. You and Margaery should come visit more often.”

            “We try. It’s hard for Margaery to get away, though,” said Sansa.

            Margaery was the youngest person ever elected to the House of Nobles, thanks in no small part to her contributions in Renly’s ragingly successful  first two years as president. His endorsement helped her crush her opponents in the election. Unlike most of the other representatives, who took vacations for months when council wasn’t in session, Margaery constantly found ways to stay busy with projects in King’s Landing. While that was great for the people and for her career, it left her and Sansa with little time. It was difficult enough to drag her up to Winterfell for this two week break.

            Robb picked up the pup. She whimpered. “We can keep her in my office. Jacobey knows better than to go in there.”

            He led Sansa in through the backdoor. His home was small and quaint, but nice. Perfect for a young family.

            “Darling, I found Sansa. She was hiding out back.”

            After Sansa tugged off her boots, she looked up. Robb’s wife, Talisa, looked down at her fondly. Sansa swiftly stood and hugged her good-sister. “It’s nice to see you again, Sansa. Are things well?”

            She pulled back and smiled. “Quite well. How are the terrible three’s treating you?”

            “They’re worse than the ‘terrible two’s’. The boy can hardly sit still,” joked Talisa. “Is that his present?” she pointed to the little pup cuddled in Robb’s arm.

            “Mm-hm,” Sansa nodded.

            “She’s cute. He’ll love her as much as he loves Grey Wind,” said Talisa. She walked to Robb and kissed his cheek. “Theon texted. He said “Wait til you see the smoking babe I’ve got with me’.”

            Sansa stifled a laugh at Robb’s groan. “He’d better keep it pg-13 at the worst.”

            The reminder of adult content brought her mind back to the woman she brought with her. “Where’s Margaery?”

            Talisa turned back to Sansa. “She’s in the living room. Jacobey wanted to show her all his new toys. Poor girl. You should go save her,” then she turned to Robb, “I’m going to check on the ham. Dinner should be ready soon.”

            “Yes, love,” he said.

            Watching her brother, Sansa couldn’t help but think back to the rough start Robb and Talisa had. They met at a party shortly after his ludicrous fake relationship with Theon. The party turned into a one-night stand which turned into little Jacobey. Learning that Robb would be a father had been a greater shock to her parents than when Sansa came out to them. Her father could barely look Robb in the eye. Robb married Talisa not out of love, but out of a sense of duty. He could provide for her better than she could on her own, especially with his post-graduation job in the Department of Northern Control.

            The two grew to love each other. It may not have been the kind of love Sansa felt for Margaery, but in a way it was. She was happy that he finally had someone who made him smile.

            Lost in the memory, Sansa wandered into the living room. When she saw her girlfriend sitting cross-legged, hunched down next to her nephew with Lady lying between them, having her belly rubbed in front of the Christmas tree, a warm feeling burst in her chest. One day they would have their own Jacobey. She always wanted to be a mother, and knew that Margaery would make a great one as well.

            Warm fuzzy feelings couldn’t last forever though.

            “Sansa _came_ down my chimney last night too,” said Margaery. The little boy’s face glowed in delight as Sansa’s flushed in horror.

            “Margaery!” she shrieked.

            Margaery smirked up at her. “Oh look, there’s Sansa Claus now.”

            Arms held out, Jacobey hopped up on his footsie pajama covered feet and ran across the room. “Auntie Sansa! Auntie Sansa!”

 “Jacobey!” she bent down and picked him up. “You’re getting so big! Soon you’ll be bigger than your daddy!”

Jacobey giggled. His dark curls bounced with the laughs. “Daddy said you came to our house last night! And you left me toys!”

Sansa gasped. “Did I? I don’t remember leaving you presents.” She carried him to the couch and sat him on her knee.

Jacobey smiled. “Yeah! He said ‘Sansa Claus comes every Christmas and leaves toys and eats cookies! See you brought me that truck and a dinoso!” He pointed to the toys in the middle of the rooom.

Margaery sat down next to them and rested her hand against Sansa’s other knee. Jacobey looked at her with excitement.

“Aunt Marggie, did Sansa Claus eat your cookies and drink your milk. She did here!”

Margaery’s trademark smirk returned. She looked pointedly at Sansa as she said, “Yes. Sansa Claus ate all my cookies, but I didn’t have any milk for her. She had to settle for my own special drink.”

Margaery’s eyes twinkled with mischief as her hand squeezed Sansa’s knee. Memories of their Christmas eve activities renewed Sansa’s blush. This wasn’t fair!

“How’s my favorite little man?” thundered Robb’s voice. He came over and plucked Jacobey out off of Sansa and held him high in the air. The boy giggled and kicked.

“Auntie Sansa says she doesn’t remember leaving me toys last night. Make her remember daddy,” said Jacobey.

Robb furrowed his eyebrows and looked down to Margaery and Sansa. “Why would Sansa be here yesterday?”

“Come on Robb,” smiled Margaery. “Everyone knows that on Christmas eve Sansa Claus leaves presents for all the good little boys and girls.” She laid her head on Sansa’s shoulder. “And I’ve been a very good girl.”

Robb glared at her. “Stop corrupting my son.”

Margaery sat up, pretending to be affronted. “I didn’t do anything! Sansa, your brother’s being mean. You should exchange his present for coal.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and wrapped an arm over Margaery’s shoulder, tugging her against her. “Shut up while you’re ahead Margaery.”

Robb put his son down and bent over. “It’s not Sansa Claus who comes to our house, it’s Santa. Aunt Sansa was sleeping last night when Santa visited us.”

“Ooohh,” said Jacobey.

Beside Sansa, Margaery nuzzled her head against Sansa’s neck and whispered, “Maybe here, but Sansa Claus came all night long for me.”

Sansa flicked Margaery’s forehead.

“Hey!”

“You had your warning, now be nice,” said Sansa.

Margaery crossed her legs and pouted. She looked so cute when she pouted. Her lips looked plump, kissable. Giving in to her base desire, Sansa kissed Margaery. She felt the Margaery’s surprise turn into elation when Margaery kissed back. Because Margaery is determined to make the most of every situation, nothing between them ever stays innocent. At least that’s how it felt when Margaery’s tongue glided along her lips.

“Ew!” cried Jacobey. “That’s gross!”

Margaery giggled as she ended the kiss then pressed her forehead against Sansa’s cheek. “It’s what adults do.”

“Adults are yucky!” said Jacobey.

Robb sat in the reclining chair and leaned back. “How’s life in the House of Nobles, Margaery?”

Her face lit up as it always did when someone asked about politics. “Quite well. When the House reconvenes, my committee is proposing a new law to provide tax breaks for orphanages throughout the Seven Kingdoms. We’re also looking into ways to reduce military spending,” she turned to Sansa, “Which reminds me, I have a video conference with President Baratheon tomorrow.”

It was Sansa's turn to pout. They agreed no work on vacation. “Margaery, you promised!”

Margaery sighed. “Think of it more as a friendly telephone call between my new good brother and I.”

Before Sansa could argue, the doorbell rang.

“It’s about time,” muttered Robb. He got up and walked out of the living room.

Noticing that Sansa was still upset, Margaery lifted her chin. Sansa looked straight into her beautiful amber eyes. Eyes that made her heart melt. Eyes that could do no wrong. Of all the things that had changed in the last four years, the way she felt when she looked into Margaery’s eyes never did. “It’ll be a short conversation. Barely any mention of politics, I promise.”

Sansa nodded. Usually Margaery was good for her word.

“Where’s the little bugger” shouted a voice that could belong to only one man.

“Unky Theon!” cried Jacobey.

Sansa turned in time to see the toddler jump into Theon’s widespread arms.

It had been ages since Sansa had last seen Theon in person. She had been texting him far more than usual lately because of her plans for today, but he wasn’t in Winterfell during her last visit. Their last face-to-face talk had been at Robb’s last birthday party. He had begun working at the docks back in March, and the benefits showed. He looked leaner and more toned than Sansa had ever seen him. For once, he also seemed fulfilled. Even in texts, she could hear how much happier he was with work than he had been with any of his previous jobs. Things were finally on the right track for him.

Since fake dating her brother, Theon had become an even closer friend to Sansa. He knew how to lighten a mood.

Initially, she didn’t notice the tall, dark haired woman behind Theon. She was quite beautiful. Could have been a model, really. Although she looked incredibly bored with the whole situation. When Jacobey jumped out of his arms, Theon stood back up and put an arm around his companion.

“Everyone, this is Shae. She, this is Robb and that’s his sister Sansa, and that’s Margaery,” Theon gestured to everyone.

Shae waved and smiled. “Hello. I am Shae. I’ve heard so much about all of you.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Although Theon hasn’t said nearly as much about you,” said Robb.

Theon and Shae squeezed in next to Sansa and Margaery. He gave a quick hug to Margaery, then leaned across her to hug Sansa. “I haven’t seen you two in

 forever.”

“Yes, it’s been quite a while,” agreed Sansa.

Talisa walked into the room as sat back and slung an arm around Shae. “Talisa! This is Shae, my girlfriend.”

Shae glared at Theon. “Not girlfriend. Date.”

“I mean my date,” corrected Theon, but he winked at Robb.

Talisa came over and reached out her hand to shake Shae’s. “I’m sorry it’s so messy. That’s life with a three-year-old son I suppose.”

Shae smiled charmingly. “Children can be wild. I’m actually a nanny, so I understand.” When Shae looked back to the hallway, a she cried out in surprise.

Sansa whipped her head around. Grey Wind and Lady were finally making their way into the living room. With all the excitement, Sansa had forgotten about her dog. Then she remembered the little pup hiding in Robb’s office. She could imagine Lady whimpering outside the door, poking her nose at the gap underneath to reach her pup. The whine she let out when she laid her furry head onto Sansa’s leg only furthered her suspicions.

Margaery leaned forward and pat Lady’s head.

After a few minutes of idle chatter, the kitchen timer went off. “The casserole is done. Which means dinner is ready.”

Eager to eat, Jacobey got up and raced to the kitchen, with Robb followed closely behind.

No one seemed to notice that Sansa and Theon stayed behind. Even the dogs had gone. Theon slid over next to Sansa.

“Did you ask her yet?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’m waiting for the right time. Maybe after everyone opens their presents.”

He shook his head. “You can’t keep putting it off. You’ve been doing that for two months. You have to jump on it before someone else jumps on her.”

Sansa’s head jerked up, affronted. “Why? Has she said something?”

Theon laughed. “No, it was just a joke. But seriously, there’s nothing holding you back.”

Sansa looked at him, all seriousness. “What if she says no?”

Theon stood up. “The woman turned down Robb Stark, Elia Sand, and a lucrative job in Essos to stay with you. If she says no, I’ll give up sex for a month.”

Sansa followed him to the kitchen. “That’s not a long time.”

Bewildered, Theon spun around. “Not a long time! Bloody hell woman, do you have no libido?”

With two plates of food in hand, Margaery popped into the conversation. “She has a highly active libido, if you must know. It’s just been fully satisfied.”

Margaery gave Sansa one of the plates. She took her hand and led her to the dining room. They sat across from Talisa and Jacobey, with Robb on Sansa’s right and Shae on Margaery’s left.

Though it was a tight squeeze, the group made it work. Robb’s table was much smaller than the family table back home. Even then the table would be crowded. Holiday dinners always involved extended family, so Uncle Benjen, Uncle Edmure, Aunt Lysa and Robyn, and some of her father’s friends would always show up. Had her parents not been celebrating their 28th anniversary in Pentos, they would likely be eating at her parents’ house.

Still, the meal was perfectly lovely. Despite being a good cook herself, Sansa envied Talisa’s talents in the kitchen. Later she would need to ask about the recipe for these sweet potatoes. “This is amazing, Talisa,” said Sansa, swallowing a mouthful of food.

Talisa smiled shyly. “I’m glad you like it. There was a lot of experimenting that went into this.”

“Robb, Theon tells me that you’ve known each other for a long time,” says Shae.

Robb takes a drink. “Yeah. Since grade school. He was my first friend actually.”

“And his first boyfriend,” added Margaery.

Both men groaned simultaneously.

“Boyfriend?” asked Shae.

Margaery grinned wide and set down her fork. “Did Theon not tell you? For a short time, Theon and Robb were the most adorable couple.”

“I love this story,” said Talisa. She chewed off a piece of ham.

“Honey..” groaned Robb.

“Ssshh,” hushed Talisa. “Go on Margaery.”

Sansa rolled her eyes as Margaery recalled the story. Under the table, Margaery squeezed her hand. Now Sansa could hardly remember why she had gotten so upset. It was a story that always made her smile. Perhaps that was why Robb and Theon never got offended when Margaery told it. And Margaery told it every chance she got.

“Did you ever actually kiss him?” Shae asked when Margaery finished.

Theon vehemently shook his head. “He’s not the kissable type. I mean, just look at him. Would you kiss him?”

“Yes,” Shae deadpanned.

Theon blushed in embarrassment.

“If it helps, I wouldn’t,” said Margaery. “I only have eyes for one woman.” She leaned over and kissed Sansa’s cheek. Feeling everyone’s eyes on her, Sansa blushed. Thankfully, Jacobey was an attention magnet.

“Presents! Presents!” he cried.

Talisa reached out and sat Jacobey down. “I told you after everyone is done.”

“Oh, go ahead and let him open our gifts. Margaery can help me clear off the table,” said Robb.

Earlier, Sansa had texted Robb about her plans. This was his way of giving her the space she needed to get herself ready. He was sweet, thinking of ways to help her out.

“Mine are in the car,” said Sansa. “Theon, can you help me get them?”

Theon nodded. On his way out he brushed Shae’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back, beautiful.” Shae shrugged and continued eating.

Although Shae seemed decent enough, Sansa couldn’t see the relationship lasting more than a couple of weeks. Yet, she couldn’t find it in herself to tell Theon. She would be another in a long line of unsuccessful love trysts, but she trusted that if Robb could find someone, then so could Theon.

They bundled up and trudged back through the snow to Sansa’s car. She popped up the trunk and handed several boxes to Theon. She held on to the biggest, which had her name written on it, then picked up the smallest one. It was for Margaery.

“Which one did you get?” Theon asked.

Sansa twirled the box in her hand, examining the simple wrapping. “The white gold, black diamond encrusted one with petals on it.”

“Classy,” he said. “Expensive as hell though. You should have sprung for one of the cheaper ones.”

Sansa shrugged. She’d been saving for months before she bought the ring, hording every cent and buying cheap for the necessities. It was worth it. None of the other rings screamed Margaery: classy and extravagant, without being obnoxious. (Okay, maybe Margaery could be obnoxious, but usually she wasn’t.)

“It’s worth it,” Sansa said. “Come one, Jacobey’s present is already inside and is probably getting restless.”

Theon raised an eyebrow, but Sansa ignored him and walked back in.

At the door, Jacobey jumped up and down. “Toys, toys!” he shouted. Talisa picked him up so Sansa and Theon could get through. Unfortunately, Lady wasn’t as thoughtful, nearly tripping Sansa as she refused to move along. Sansa put down the surprisingly light big box in front of the tree and sat the little one on top of it.

“Toys! Toys!” shouted Jacobey. He went for the big box.

Before he could tear the wrapping paper, Talisa picked him back up. “Ah, ah. That’s Aunt Sansa’s. Yours is a special surprise.”

When Theon came back, he had his own presents as well. He handed one to Jacobey. “Merry Christmas, buddy.”

Ignoring his mother's caution to wait for Robb, Jacobey tore into the wrapping. “Cool! Bang! Bang!” Jacobey imitated the sound of the toy pistol.

“Really?” Talisa said incredulously.

“What? He likes it.” Defended Theon.

“I said no violent toys,” said Talisa.

At that moment Robb and Margaery came in, followed by Shae. Robb tried to turn around and run away upon seeing the scowl on his wife’s face.

Talisa noticed the reaction and crossed her arms as she glared at him. “You did this, didn’t you.”

Robb turned again and sighed. “It’s fake. It won’t do any harm.”

“And neither will you sleeping on the couch,” retorted Talisa.

Theon grinned. “Someone’s in the dog house.”

“Don’t let me get started on you,” said Talisa.

Margaery used the distraction to sneak next to Sansa and slip her arm around her waist. “The doghouse is going to be pretty cozy. Good thing they love cuddling so much.”

            After everyone settled down, they opened their gifts from Theon. Robb and Talisa got a speaker set, which for once was a useful gift. For Margaery, he got documentary box set on the War of The 5 Kings. And, of course, he got Sansa a book. She smiled politely and thanked him. It didn’t matter that she already had three copies of The Asshai Chronicle. Theon was trying and it was hard to get angry over that.

            Then Robb passed out his presents. Theon’s face nearly fell off when he opened the box to find an autographed baseball. “How did you meet Arthur Dayne?!”

            Talisa smirked. “Let’s just say I know a guy who knows a guy.”

            Margaery was less enthused with her gift. Not that it wasn’t a lovely scarf, but she’d already gotten two from her own brothers. Sansa would be more than willing to share the vintage Dornish wine that served as her gift though.

            “Okay, it’s our turn,” said Margaery. She patted Sansa’s knee. “Yours is in a special place, Jacobey.”

            Jacobey’s face lit up. “Where is it?!”

            “Go follow Sansa Claus,” she encouraged.

Jacobey ran over and grabbed Sansa’s hand, tugging her off the couch. “Come on Auntie Sansa. Let’s find my present.”

Sansa led the way to Robb’s office. “It’s in there.”

Jacobey sped ahead of her and opened the door. “Puppy!” he shrieked.

The poor pup looked frightened at the noise, but sensed freedom. She scurried out of the office and to the living room. Jacobey chased her back. “Come back puppy!”

Sansa chuckled to herself as she walked back. She saw Jacobey snuggling the puppy against his chest while sitting in Robb’s lap. In her absence, Margaery had passed out the rest of the presents. Everyone opened theirs. They kept it simple. Margaery had found a Theon one of those beer drinking hats that held the can in the helmet. He loved it on sight, while Shae rolled her eyes. They would definitely be over soon, Sansa was sure of it.

For Talisa, she found a gorgeous pair of boots at a little shop in King’s Landing and made a scarf of her own for Robb. Both gifts were appreciated.

All that was left was her gift and Margaery’s. Sansa couldn’t wait anymore. She could feel herself shaking with nerves that hadn’t existed moments before.

Sansa cleared her throat. “You want to open yours-” she said at the same time Margaery said, “Let’s do yours-”

They both stopped. Margaery giggled as Sansa looked nervously toward Theon. He smiled back encouragingly. When she looked to Robb, he did the same. Although he hadn’t been as involved in the process, he knew that Sansa planned to propose. Her eyes finally landed back on Margaery, who was grinning so sweetly and kindly at her.

“I want you to open yours first,” Sansa stammered. Her throat felt thick, as if she couldn’t get enough air.

Margaery smiled. “Okay. I suppose we have to save the best for last then,” she teased.

Sansa took her hand and urged her to get up as they walked back to the boxes in front of the tree. Her legs felt wobbly, like they were wooden stilts. She looked behind her one last time for encouragement, then slowly picked up the box.

The smile never left Margaery’s face as Sansa handed her the box. “Am I going to find an IOU note in here like last year?” she joked.

Sansa shook her head. “Open it,” she said.

Margaery peeled off an edge of tape and seamlessly unwrapped the box. Under the wrapping was the little ring box. Margaery’s big beautiful eyes somehow grew wider when she realized what it was. Her hand flew up to her mouth as she looked between Sansa and box. “Is- is this.”

Sansa gently took the box from Margaery and inhaled deeply. For that moment, the rest of the world wasn’t there. It was just her, Margaery, and one lingering question. Her eyes never veered from Margaery’s as she said, “Margaery, I remember the first day I ever saw you. I was eating lunch by myself at some little café that I don’t even remember the name of. You sat down in the seat across from me and just started talking. I remember thinking how could someone so kind and so intelligent and so interesting take notice of a girl like me,” Margaery opened her mouth to protest, but Sansa continued, “You’ve been my best friend for six years now. Somewhere along the way I noticed how beautiful you are. I know that’s the first thing most people notice about you, because gods you’re gorgeous, but I didn’t really notice it until I found you sleeping on my couch in the apartment in October five months before we got together. That was actually the moment I realized I was bi. I don’t think I ever told you that. You looked so beautiful, so peaceful with your hair messed up and your nose crinkled,” Sansa tucked a stray hair behind Margaery’s ear as Margaery blushed. “I never thought you could want me back, not until you asked me to be your Valentine so many months later. Every day since that first day we met, I’ve been falling deeper in love with you Margaery. You’ve always been the one to take leaps of faith with our relationship, from asking me out, to kissing me, to…other stuff.” Somehow she was still aware of the presence of a minor in the room, though she couldn’t have said how she was. She flipped open the box and held it out toward Margaery. Margaery gasped at the ring, once more looking between Sansa and the box. She slowly picked it up. “Now it’s my turn to take a leap of faith. Margaery Tyrell, I love you. I couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone else the way I love you. You’re the only one I want to see waking up beside me every day for the rest of my life. Will you please do me the honor of marrying me?”

Margaery slid the ring on her finger and admired it. But she didn’t respond. Sansa swallowed. Every millisecond felt like an eternity.

Finally, Margaery looked back at her. “Yes! Yes, gods of course I’ll marry you!” she smiled. Relief flooded Sansa’s senses as she wrapped her arms around Margaery and met her for a kiss. Margaery’s arms tightened around her neck as she lifted her new fiancé off the ground. The sound of clapping and cheering and Jacobey going “Ew!” never registered with Sansa. All she knew was that she was marrying the love of her life.

When she put Margery back down, Margaery’s giant smile only made her own grow. Remembering the other people present, Sansa turned to look at the rest of the room. Although Jacobey had apparently lost interest in favor of his new puppy, who was being watched closely by Lady, everyone else looked happy too. Shae gave her a thumbs up, and even Robb was able to look happy.

“Well, I’m not sure how my present is supposed to follow that up,” joked Margaery. She got down on her knees next to the giant box. Sansa joined her. It didn’t matter if Margaery had only gotten her a piece of blank paper, she knew that she would love it.

Margaery nudged the box toward Sansa. Sansa ripped into the paper and opened the box. For a moment, she thought that perhaps she had been right and that there was only paper in the box, because it was filled with just tissue paper. It wasn’t until she had pulled all the paper out that she noticed the little box at the bottom.

It was Sansa’s turn to act surprised. Her mouth dropped open. She reached down and pulled out a little black velvet box, the same size as the one she had just given Margaery. The grin on Margaery’s face said it all. With quivering hands, Sansa popped open the top, revealing a gorgeous rose gold ring encrusted with sapphires, set with a single diamond.

“I-I’m sorry,” were the first words that found their way out.

Margaery giggled. “Why are you sorry?”

Sansa looked back up from the ring. “I ruined your surprise!”

This time the entire room laughed. Margaery crawled over and cradled Sansa’s face in her hands. “Sweetling, I don’t care about that. It doesn’t matter which one of us asks. It’s not like that changes anything. But I must double-check. Sansa, will you marry me?”

Sansa nodded, her face still caught between Margaery’s hands. She surged forward and kissed Margaery hard. After several lingering kisses, she pulled back. She picked the ring out of its box. “It’s beautiful.”

“A beautiful ring for a beautiful girl,” whispered Margaery. “It’s a new band, but the stone was the one that my father used to propose to my mother. You two share similar tastes in jewelry.”

Margaery gently coerced the ring from Sansa’s hand. Holding the hand up, Margaery slid the ring onto her wedding finger. “It’s a perfect fit. Merry Christmas, my love.”

Reminding Sansa she and Margaery were not in fact alone, Robb cleared his throat. “With the nitty-gritty out of the way, there are some important questions that need to be answered. Like who’s the best man going to be.”

Margaery and Sansa looked at each other and nodded. “Loras,” they said in unison.

Robb scoffed. “After everything I’ve done for you, all the entertainment I’ve provided over the years, all the support, you choose some pretty boy over me.”

“I’ve beaten you by miles in entertainment,” said Theon.

“That’s true,” said Sansa. She slipped her hand into Margaery’s and led her back to the couch. She couldn’t resist running her thumb over the top of the engagement ring. Everyone would know that Margaery was hers.

“Well, you two can fight for maid of honor. Unless Arya wants it,” suggested Margaery.

‘What about me?” asked Talisa.

“You’re married, you can’t be a maid,” said Theon. “And neither can Robb. So I’m it.”

“Then you’ll have to wear dress and console me when I get all emotional,” said Sansa. There was no way Arya would want maid of honor, so Theon was as good a choice.

“Just make sure it matches my eyes,” said Theon. His date did not look amused with the joke, but wore a fake smile to placate him when he grinned her way.

Later that night, as Sansa and Margaery drove back to the hotel, Margaery laid her head against Sansa’s shoulder. Lady was out cold in the backseat, tired from hovering over her pup the whole night. Sansa kept her eyes trained on the road, watching for ice patches.

“How does ‘the future Mrs. Stark-Tyrell’ sound to you.” Margaery asked.

Sansa half-grinned. “It sounds perfect.”


	2. Sisterly Advice (Arya + Sansaery)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place a little over a year after the events in The Double Date. Robb is a new dad at this point, in case anyone wanted to know.

It was funny how different siblings could bring about the strangest aspects in people. With every Stark sibling Margaery met, she saw a new aspect of Sansa. As much as Sansa brought out Robb’s protectiveness, Robb brought out Sansa’s hopeful dreams. Eight months ago, when Sansa brought Margaery home for her father’s birthday, Margaery noticed that around Bran, Sansa tended to let her creativity flow, while everything Rickon did worried Sansa to death.

None brought out as many sides as Arya did. Every time Margaery saw them in the same room together, there was something new. Snobbiness, anger, and a protective bond that only exists among sisters were among the parts of Sansa that Margaery saw most often around Arya.

Until tonight, Margaery had never known of the competitive streak the Stark girls had. Being the designated driver, Margaery had reached her limit long ago. She watched as Sansa and Arya both downed their sixth shots of the night. The glasses hit the table simultaneously with an echoing clink.

Margaery didn’t need Arya’s presence to know that Sansa liked to get handsy when she was drunk. Which was perfectly fine with Margaery.

Sansa yawned and rested her chin on Margaery’s shoulder. “I wanna dance, Margaery. Dance with me.” She stood and tried to tug Margaery up with her, nearly tumbling over in her ridiculously high heels.

“Baby, no,” Margaery whined. “My feet are tired from running around the Keep.”

She pulled Sansa into her lap, eliciting a giggle as she landed on Margaery’s thigh. Sansa adjusted herself, turning sideways and wrapping her arm around Margaery’s neck. “I like your idea much better.”

Sansa leaned down and sloppily kissed Margaery. Her soft lips left a wet, lipstick stained trail down to Margaery’s neck. Margaery smirked then winced as Sansa bit her neck way too hard. “That’s enough for one night, Dracula.”

Sansa begrudgingly pulled away, allowing Margaery to rub over the spot. Those were some fairly deep teeth marks, but surprisingly there was no blood. Sansa’s tongue replaced Margaery’s fingers almost immediately. “I’m sorry, Marge.”

This must be how Lady’s bones feel, thought Margaery. She glanced over Sansa’s shoulder to find Arya. The girl sat at the other end of the bar next to a handsome, tan man with short black hair and muscle-toned arms. He smiled softly and his eyes focused solely on Arya.

Such a shame, especially since Arya… Margaery’s eyes blew wide. She’d never seen it before. Arya Stark was blushing. The sideways angle made it difficult to tell, but there was no doubt in Margaery’s mind: Arya Stark had a crush.

Feverishly, Margaery tapped Sansa’s back. “Sans. Sans, look!” she whispered.

“What?” groaned Sansa, before continuing to lick Margaery like a lollipop.

Margaery grasped Sansa’s head and turned it toward the circus spectacle occurring at the end of the bar. It took a second for the image to register in Sansa’s mind.

“Oh my gods!” Sansa squealed. She bounced up and down in Margaery’s lap. Her heels clacked to the ground as she hopped up. Margaery had to lend her her arm to regain her balance. On a mental note, Margaery told herself to remember that Sansa forgot which shoes she was wearing when she was drunk.

Sansa strode to her sister’s side, grinning like an idiot. Eager to see what kind of man could make the Arya Stark blush like a school girl, Margaery threw down a few gold dragons and joined the rest of them.

Sansa squeezed her arms around her little sister. “Arrrrrryaaaa. Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriennnd?”

Arya slapped her arms away and scowled at Sansa. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

The man sitting beside Arya stood and stuck out his hand. “Hi. I’m Gendry.”

Margaery shook it. “I’m Margaery. And that is Arya’s sister, Sansa.”

“Oh. She doesn’t seem quite like Arya described her,” Gendry said.

Sansa gasped far too dramatically. “You’ve been telling him about me? He must be your boyfriend!” She embraced Arya again, squeezing her tighter. “Oh, I knew this day would come.”

“Get off or I’ll throw all your clothes in the dumpster!” Arya threatened.

Sansa let her go, but turned her attention to Gendry. “How do you know my darling little sister?”

Gendry looked awkwardly at Arya before clearing his throat. “Arry and I are in the same metalwork class at the Helm’s Hold.”

After taking a year off and traveling through Bravos and Essos, Arya had decided to go to trade school in King’s Landing. Which was the entire reason she was moving into Sansa’s apartment. The timing had worked out perfectly because it allowed Sansa to move in with Margaery without worrying about her lease. Except the transition process was taking much longer than expected, so everyone was currently staying in Margaery's house.

Sansa’s dazed eyes shot up. “Margie did you hear that? They have pet names for each other!” She was practically bouncing in her heels again.

Arya’s knuckles turned pale as she clinched her glass. Margaery wasn’t sure if Arya would throw it at Sansa’s head or if it would bust first.

Ending the night at the hospital was not among Margaery’s plans. She took Sansa’s hand. “Darling, let’s step outside. It’s getting hot.”

“That’s just Arya’s boyfriend. She nabbed a real looker for her first lover,” Clearly Sansa thought she was whispering.

Gendry’s blush was nearly as red as Sansa’s hair, and Arya gritted her teeth to the point that they were grinding against each other.

Margaery took Sansa’s arm. In times such as these, only one thing would work to get Sansa to follow her. “No, Sansa. I mean that you’re making me hot.”

Sansa’s eyes widened as did her smile. “Ooohhh. Okay,”

Completely forgetting about Arya and Gendry, Sansa practically dragged Margaery out to the car.

Sansa pushed Margaery against the car and kissed her, still lacking her usual finesse. Again, Margaery didn’t care. She wouldn’t let it get any farther than this tonight, but that didn’t stop her from relishing in the feeling of Sansa’s tongue in her mouth. Nevermind that she tasted of gin and ale, Margaery’s least favorite drinks.

Sansa moaned softly as her hand squeezed Margaery’s ass.

Then, heavy boots stomped toward the car. “Can we go now, or are you two going to stand out here and suck face all night,” Arya huffed.

Margaery gently nudged Sansa off of her. “Come on, Sansa. Lady probably has to pee.”

Sansa used the car as a balance to get to the other side.

Margaery turned to Arya and smirked.

“What?” snapped Arya.

“Oh, nothing,” Margaery said. “It’s just,” she leaned into Arya's ear, “You like him.”

She danced out of the way before Arya could smack her and got in the driver’s seat. Arya climbed in the back and slammed the door shut.

Margaery started the car and began driving.

“It’s so sweet. It’s like Florian and Jonquil. Except Arya is Florian and Gendry is Jonquil. Floriana and Jonquilo,” Sansa said.

Arya smacked Sansa on the top the head.

“Ow!” Sansa turned to smack Arya, but missed and hit her hand against the side of the car.

“Stop or I’m pulling over and calling Cat,” said Margaery.

Both Starks pouted and cooperated.

With some peace in the car, Margaery could finally ask, “How long have you liked him?”

“I don’t like him,” grumbled Arya.

Margaery smirked. “Lying will get you nowhere, darling. That little blush you had and your goofy smile made it obvious.”

Arya blushed against her will. “I think he’s cute, okay. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Eeeek!” Sansa dug her nails into Margaery’s arm. Margaery’s hand flinched, causing the car to careen in the lane, “I knew it! Gendry and Arya are going to fall in love and have babies! I’ll be an aunt again!”

“I’m not having any babies!” shouted Arya.

“You’re using protection, right?” asked Margaery.

“He’s not my boyfriend and we’re not having sex! I don’t even know if he likes me,” Arya dropped her face into her hands.

“He likes you,” smirked Margaery, shifting the gear into park in her driveway.

“What?” Arya asked.

“He’s got a big, dopey, muscle-man crush on you Arya,” Sansa clarified.

Margaery walked around and helped Sansa out of the car. “He’s too shy to ask you, though. So you have to make the first move.”

Arya stopped at the door, waiting for Margaery to unlock it.

“Make it a big romantic gesture. Like make him a sword or hanger or something in your metal class,” Sansa offered.

“Ooohh! And bring flowers. Loras tells me all the time that Renly adores the flowers he surprises him with. Guys appreciate pretty gifts too.”

Margaery twisted the lock.

“Theon agrees,” Sansa added. “He said the one thing he enjoyed about fake-dating Robb was the flowers he would give him. It made his bathroom smell nice for a day or two. That and free food.”

Arya groaned and went inside. Nymeria and Lady raced each other to get to the door. Margaery held her breath as Nymeria knocked into a vase and it teetered on the floor. When it settled back without chipping, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Sansa shut the door and yanked off her heels while Arya went to the back door and let the dogs out. They sprinted down after each other. Lady would have won had Nymeria not jumped the last four steps.

“Can I go to bed?” Arya pled.

“No,” Margaery sat on the couch and patted the spot next to her, which Arya accepted in defeat. Sansa sat on Margaery’s lap and found a brown curl to play with. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

Sansa snorted. “No.”

Arya shot up. Margaery grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. “Don’t panic. Kissing is easy. On the first date a simple peck on the cheek will do. Don’t try to shove your tongue down his throat on the first date. You’ll seem like a whore. He doesn’t seem the type to be into that.”

“You spent half the night making out with me on our first date,” Sansa said, still playing with the strand of hair.

“Because I knew you liked it,” smiled Margaery.

“I still do,” murmured Sansa as she kissed Margaery’s cheek.

“You two are disgusting,” Arya said. She got up and let the dogs in.

“I’m picking out your outfit. Others take me if I let you go on your first date wearing a t-shirt and combat boots,” Sansa called out.

Arya started to head down the hallway, Nymeria on her heels.

“Where do you think you’re going?” demanded Margaery. “We have yet to discuss your seduction techniques.”

Arya halted. Nymeria, not expecting the stop, ran into her legs. “You just said I can’t make out with him. Why do you think I’d sleep with him?”

“Sex is always a possibility on a date. You need to be prepared,” Margaery led Arya back to the couch.

“I’m not talking about this with you or her,” Arya pointed to Sansa.

“Yeah. No one is having sex. Except me and you,” Sansa said to Margaery. “We can have lots of sex, but Arya can’t because that’s strange.”

“Why is that strange?” demanded Arya. “How do you know I’m not a bloody sex queen who knows how to have every man on his knees?”

“Because you’re you,” giggled Sansa.

“And you’re an idiot who believed Ms. Snuffles was sent to a rabbit farm,” Arya retorted.

“She was! Dad showed me a picture and everything!” yelled Sansa.

Margaery redirected the conversation. “The point is, you need to be ready. I assume this will be your first time?”

Arya refused to look at her.

“As I said, you’ll have to seduce him. Guys like touch. Make it painfully obvious you want him,” Margaery placed her hand on Arya’s thigh. “When he starts getting nervous, but doesn’t tell you to stop, you know you’re on the right track.”

She inched her fingers up Arya’s thigh, delighting in how uncomfortable the girl was. “You’ll be able to see him get hard. I’ve heard lots of straight women, and Loras, say how turned on that gets them.”

“Compliment him. Build up his ego,” Margaery leaned in closer. “Then make your move. Kiss him. Let him touch you. If he’s hesitant, make him touch you, like this.” She took Arya’s hand and pressed it to her chest. Arya jerked her hand back.

“Hey!” shouted Sansa. “Get your own Margaery! This one’s mine!” she pulled Margaery back against her side.

Margaery smiled, proud of her work.

“I don’t want your Margaery. I don’t want any of this. Seven hells, you two are so weird!” Arya shouted. She jumped to her feet and stomped to the guest room.

Sansa turned Margaery’s face toward her. “You’re mine. No one else touchy.”

Margaery wrapped her arm around Sansa’s waist. “Of course, my love.”

 

A month later, Margaery is surprised to find Arya at the front door.

“Sansa’s at the store…” Margaery started.

Arya looked down at her feet. “Actually, I’m not here to talk to Sansa. I’ve been talking to Gendry and…. How do I let him know I’m ready for the next step?”

Margaery smiled. She opened the door wider. “Come in, my sweet, sweet child. You have much to learn.”


	3. Bachelorette Parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of the 3 part wedding. This one is the bachelorette parties, and why Arya should never be left in charge.

“Let’s switch. You go with Theon and Arya and I’ll go to your party,” pleaded Sansa. She sat on the bed and looked wistfully at Margaery, who was fixing her accessories in the bathroom.

            Margaery turned to the mirror and put in her second earring. “Darling, Theon and Arya want to celebrate with you. They are your maids of honor” She shut off the bathroom light and sat on the bed next to Sansa. “It will be fun. Far more interesting than dinner with my family.”

            Sansa rested her forehead against Margaery’s shoulder. “I don’t want fun! I want a boring dinner with family and friends and no chance of being arrested the night before my wedding. They’re going to torment me.”

            Margaery chuckled. She lightly brushed a strand of Sansa’s hair behind her ear. “You’re exaggerating, sweetling. Forget about tomorrow. Go out and have a few drinks, catch up with your sister, and embarrass Theon. You’ll be home before you know it.”

            She got up and put on the bracelet sitting on the dresser. “Get ready. Theon and Arya will be here in twenty minutes.” She turned back to Sansa. “I’m about to leave, baby.”

            Sansa whined. “Margaery! You’re supposed to give them a threatening talk about the dangers they’ll face if they get me too drunk or if they bring strippers or if they make me experiment with illegal drugs. Or if they make me kill a man!”

            “Theon and Arya know I’ll kill them if they make you do something you don’t want to. But they won’t.” She stood in front of Sansa. “It’s your bachelorette party, Sans. You northerners call it a last hoorah, right?”

            Even in her heels, Margaery was still an inch shorter than Sansa when Sansa stood up. “I don’t want a last hoorah. I want to be married so I can lay in bed and cuddle with Mrs. Stark-Tyrell.”

            Margaery kissed Sansa lightly. “In 30 hours you can. Now, you have to get ready to party. Love you, Sansa,” Margaery says as she leaves Sansa with a kiss on the cheek.

            “I love you Margaery! Even though you’re abandoning me to wine and dine with my parents and non-crazy people.”

            How Margaery wished that was true. Alas, what Sansa had not yet realized was that her mother and Olenna are 100% certifiable.

            On the outside, Catelyn appeared perfectly normal. Loving mother, doting wife, kind, hospitable, a bit naggy, but all mothers had their faults. She seemed the perfect match for Margaery’s grandmother to plan the wedding with. Both were eager to throw an event worthy of a Qarthian Emperor. With Margaery swamped in debates in the House of Nobles and Sansa getting her footing in her start-up book editing company, neither had time to plan and coordinate a wedding.

            They were at odds from the beginning. Catelyn wanted traditional roses, but Olenna wanted a wide assortment of flowers. Olenna called the catering company behind Catelyn’s back after an argument about what kind of food should be ordered for the reception. Finding a proper septon for the ceremony had been a nightmare. Margaery had to sit Olenna down and explain that, yes, she was perfectly happy having her ceremony done with a septon of the old gods rather than by a septon of the Seven. Even then Olenna refused to talk to Margaery for three days because she had “sided with Catelyn”.

            The point of having Catelyn and Olenna coordinate the wedding was to take a burden off Margaery’s shoulders, not add to it. For that reason  alone, Margaery was thankful the wedding was tomorrow. Of course, it was all for not if she couldn’t keep the women from clawing each other’s eyes out tonight.

            In the South, weddings were seen less as a farewell to days of being single, and more of an embrace of a future life together. Bachelor and bachelorette parties were formal events. There was no need for one last night of unwed debauchery.

            The tradition in the North was quite the opposite, if what Theon said was true. Margaery had her doubts, but it sounded fun regardless. Who was she to begrudge Sansa one last wild night?

            **************************

            As soon as Lady barked, Sansa knew her night of misery had begun. She didn’t want a bachelorette party. At the very least, she’d rather have something like Margaery’s party: a nice, fancy dinner with toasts and a glass of wine or two with her family and friends.

            _Bang Bang Bang._ It’s the moment she’d been dreading. Sansa reluctantly dragged herself to the door and opened it. Lady pranced around under her feet, panting and wagging her tail. When the door opened, Lady ran out, jumping on her favorite frenemy.

            “Ah!! Sansa! She’s attacking me! Why is she attacking me?!” Theon cried. He pushed Lady off and ran behind Arya.

            “Really? I’m half your size, Greyjoy,” Arya shoved Theon into Lady. She didn’t try to jump on him again. In the last few months, arthritis started to set in making it harder for her to be active. Still, she circled Theon’s legs and rubbed against him.

            “Ready Sans?” asked Arya

            “No,” pouted Sansa. “It’s my party. Why can’t we do what I want to do?”

            “Because if we do that, we’ll spend the entire night playing scrabble and drinking tea,” Arya said. “Oh for the love of the seven!”

            Arya grabbed Lady gently by the collar and led her back inside, away from a cowering Theon.

            “How did you get along with Grey Wind for so long?” Arya shouted.

            “Grey Wind was nice, unlike Sansa’s beast. And don’t get me started on your monstrosity. That one tried to eat me!” Theon shuddered.

            “Idiot,” Arya muttered. She turned back to Sansa. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.”

            She grabbed Sansa by the wrist and pulled her out of the house. Before Sansa noticed, Arya dug into Sansa’s purse and tossed the keys to Theon. “Be useful and lock up.”

            ************************************

The hotel ballroom looked beautiful. Gold banners hung high from the ceiling, matching the golden chandeliers. The enormous wooden table was covered with a pristine white tablecloth, silk from looks alone. Handcrafted candles rotated with golden orchids. Each chair was measured an exact distance from the next. The lowered curtains pulled away from the window to reveal a gorgeous view of the city below.

“Grandmother, you have truly outdone yourself,” Margaery murmured to herself, whirling around in awe of Olenna’s efforts.

“See what can be done when I don’t have that controlling nag breathing down my neck?” said a voice from behind her.

“Grandmother, Mrs. Stark is no more controlling than you are,” Margaery turned and hugged her grandmother. “It does look splendid, though.”

“Only the best for my granddaughter,” said Olenna. “And you look marvelous. You’ll be the most beautiful bride in the Seven Kingdoms tomorrow.”

“Second most beautiful,” Margaery corrected.

“I think Sansa would agree with your grandmother, Margaery,” said another familiar voice. Catelyn Stark walked forward with her husband, smiling widely. “You do look wonderful.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Stark,” Margaery embraced her soon to be good-mother. “Didn’t grandmother do a marvelous job with the room?”

Catelyn slowly turned, judging the room. “I’ve told you a thousand times child, you can call me Catelyn. It’s nice. The violins and sculpture seem cliché and gratuitous, but it’s nice.”

“Ordering forty pounds of beef and thirty pounds of fish for a reception with 150 guests is a little gratuitous,” Olenna retorted.

“The guests will enjoy food far more than your ridiculous amount of flowers,” Catelyn bit back. The women unconsciously inched closer together as if drawn by magnets.

Margaery placed her hand on Olenna’s back and gently guided her away. “You haven’t shown me tonight’s meal grandmother. You’re getting ahead of yourself, worrying about tomorrow.”

Ned took the opportunity to step in with Catelyn. “Come on, Cat. Robb and Talisa will be here shortly with your grandson.”

*********************************************

Of all the ludicrous ideas Arya and Theon had ever had, Sansa loathed this one the most. As far as Northern bachelorette parties were concerned, this was standard. For a Stark, it could even be called tame.

Still Sansa had explicitly told them no clubs. Especially not a gritty dive bar on the outskirts of flea bottom. The stained sidewalk, graffiti decorated bricks, and the broke down sign that read “J q n’s” told her everything she needed to know.

“Absolutely not,” Sansa stood her ground, arms crossed over her chest. “This place has to be the sketchiest in Flea Bottom.”

“Jaqen gave me a discount to reserve the whole place. It was the best I could after balls-for-brains spent the entire budget on the entertainment,” Arya said.

“The entertainment is the most important part of the bachelor party. Who cares where the venue is,” Theon held up his hands. “You should have given us a bigger budget, Sansa. We could have sprung for a nice place like Margaery got.”

“The budget was more than enough for good food and alcohol and movies _like I asked for_.”  It had been so simple for them. There had been a list of exactly what she wanted and where to buy it. The others take them, Sansa knew she should have changed her maid of honor to Talisa after Arya and Theon had that laughing fit in the middle of the bridal dress shop.

Arya rounded behind her and pushed her forward. “Live a little Sans. Do something risqué for once.”  
            Sansa dug her heels into the ground, but that did nothing to resist Arya’s force. Theon held the door open, grinning all the while. “I think you secretly love it.”

“I think you’re a douche bag and you deserve someone as equally hor-,” Sansa shut up as Arya shoved her across the threshold.

As dingy as the outside looked, the inside looked as though it belonged to one of her father’s favorite pubs in Wintertown. The walls were made of fine oak wood. Two deer heads hung on the walls across from each other. Unlike other clubs Sansa had been to, there were no neon lights, no florescent lighting. It was a cozy looking place. By the looks of it, all the tables had been cleared out, save for a giant chair, shaped like the Iron Throne of tales of old. The chair faced a large stage with a hand made catwalk. The bar looked neat and tidy, lined with alcohols Sansa had never heard of before, but Margaery probably had.

When Sansa turned back to Arya, her sister smiled smugly at her. “You were saying?”

Sansa shook herself. Just because the place looked nice didn’t mean they were off the hook. “Doesn’t matter. I know you two have something awful planned. Decorating it in fine things won’t make a difference.”

It struck her that Theon had disappeared.

“This may make a difference,” Arya said. She walked Sansa behind the stage.

“I guarantee you it won’t,” Sansa was determined to stay petty.

They rounded the corner and Sansa was ready to voice her disapproval. Instead, she squealed and all but sprinted forward. “Jeyne!”

Jeyne Poole ran forward from her spot beside Theon and embraced Sansa with a squeal of her own.

Sansa stepped back from the hug, holding on to Jeyne’s forearms. “Oh my gods! I can’t believe you’re here!”

Jeyne giggled. “And miss my best friend’s wedding? It was a crunch and I may have lost my job, but I told Roose he can shove his raise up his arse and took the first flight down, with a little help from Theon.”

Sansa didn’t know what to say, so she hugged her best friend since pre-school again. The only reason Jeyne wasn’t her maid of honor was because Roose Bolton had tied up her schedule, keeping her locked away at Dread Fort and Co. without hope of vacation time to come the wedding.

Jeyne let go of Sansa, who turned and faced Arya and Theon. Arya looked expectantly for an apology while Theon wore a cheeky grin. “You two did this?”

“Yep. Now what were you saying about us fine friends?” Theon asked.

Sansa rolled her eyes. Perhaps the night wouldn’t be as bad as she feared.

**********************************

A smile, a pleasant “Hello, it’s so nice to see you again”, a “Thank you” and on to the next attendee. The pattern repeated itself for the first thirty minutes as cousin after cousin entered the grand ballroom. Most of them, Margaery had scarcely seen in years. After nearly screaming and happily hugging her favorite cousins Elinor, Megga, and Alla, the rest of the extensive family of Tyrells became a blur.

She longed to see Loras and Renly, but they wouldn’t come until tomorrow. Loras had accompanied Renly on a last minute presidential visit to Asshai. The plane wouldn’t land until the waking hours of the morning, meaning Margaery would have to handle the horde of family, and the Queen of Thorns, on her own.

Finally, she had a moment to sit down and rest her aching feet. Heels had not been her best idea for the night. She watched Bran try to awkwardly flirt with one of her cousins as Rickon nicked a glass of champagne from one of the waiters walking around with trays. Her father and Ned laughed in a crowd with her uncles and other men Margaery could only assume were friends of Sansa’s family. All of them had great long beards that didn’t match the air of their suits.

Most importantly, Margaery noticed that her grandmother and Catelyn were in opposite corners of the room, each speaking to their own little groups. After other family members had begun arriving, the two had seemingly formed a tense truce. Each made sure to avoid the other, which maintained a fragile peace.

She felt someone tap her shoulder and turned her head. “Robb! You made it!”

She got up and hugged him. He hugged her back then stepped away.

“Sorry we’re late. I called mum to tell her. Jacobey didn’t want to let Talisa dress him and then he stained his shirt.”

Margaery waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I almost thought you’d ditched me for Sansa’s party.”

Robb chuckled. “From what Theon told me about his and Arya’s plans, that party is far from appropriate for a toddler.”

“Nonetheless, I’m glad you could make it. Where is that little rascal?”

Robb pointed toward the corner that Catelyn was in a moment before. Now Catelyn was gone, having been replaced by Talisa, Jacobey, and a horde of oohing and awing Tyrell aunts and uncles.

Where had Catelyn gone? Margaery looked back to where her grandmother had been standing. She had moved too.

“Oh no,” murmured Margaery. She spots the two by the sculpture shaped like a heart. Olenna dons her condescending face while Catelyn waves her arms around exuberantly.

“What’s wrong?” asked Robb.

Margaery got up, ready to intervene in her grandmother and goodmother’s quarrel. “Grandmother and Cat. Gods they’re going to ruin everything. Dinner hasn’t even been served and they’re going at it like beta fish.”

Robb followed her. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Ha,” Margaery barked, gracefully avoiding one of the waiters walking around with a tray full of glasses. “Garlan’s goodmother told Grandmother that she disagreed with the color arrangement of the flowers. Grandmother called her a blind tart with a brain the size of an almond. The woman said something back, I can’t remember what, but I do remember Grandmother dumping her food down the woman’s dress. Needless to say, they don’t talk when Mrs. Fossoway visits.”

Robb rounded her off. “Margaery, I don’t think it will be that bad. Relax. This is your night to enjoy. Let me and Talisa handle mum and Olenna.”

“No, I couldn’t,” said Margaery. It’s her wedding, so the warring matriarchs were her burden.

“You have enough to worry about,” Robb insisted. He picked up a glass of champagne from a waiter’s tray as he walked by. “Drink a little, talk to your family and friends. I’ll let Talisa know, and everything will be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Margaery asked.

Robb smiled and nodded. “After everything you’ve done for Sansa? And after putting up with me through college? Consider it my wedding gift to you.”

Margaery hugged her future goodbrother tight. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you.” Over his shoulder she spotted two face she hadn’t seen in years.

“Oh my gods! Dany is that you?” She screamed.

Daenerys turned around and smiled wide. “Marge!”

Margaery ran as fast as she could in her heels before skidding to a halt. Her mouth dropped slightly before quirking into a grin. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Daenerys rested her hand over her swelling stomach, holding Drogo’s hand with the other. “We wanted it to be a surprise.”

*****************************

It was worse. So much worse.

Lovely as it was to catch up with Jeyne and Mya and all her childhood and college friends, that joy dissipated the moment Arya and Theon’s entertainment arrived.  

Sansa knew there would be strippers. She figured there would be at least two, no more than three, to fit everyone’s tastes. Not this many.

Theon had spent every cent of Sansa’s allotted budget on renting an entire stripper company for the night.

To most people, the party would seem to be a smashing hit. Jeyne and Mya were enamored by the male strippers. Sansa had to admit that they were sexy, particularly the one who went by “Hard” Hardying. His ‘hardness” spoke for itself, plainly visible through his speedo. There were also several beautiful women. Each stripper had their attempt at seducing Sansa and each failed miserably. The most any of them did was cause her to blush.

None of them was Margaery.

Arya told Sansa to forget Margaery, to pretend she didn’t exist. That worked…until Sansa began comparing them to Margaery. Like the man that had Margaery’s hair, but not her big eyes. Or the red head currently shaking her thong-covered ass in front of Theon’s face that shared Margaery’s smirking smile, but not her lilting accent.

A shot glass slammed down on the table next to her. Sansa glanced up from the corner she was staring into to find Arya scowling down at her. “Drink.”

“I don’t want to,” Sansa nudged the cup away pitifully.

Arya slid the glass back in front of her. “I did not cancel my fencing class to watch you mope around. Drink.”

Figuring Arya would leave if she drank, Sansa tossed back the shot. She shook her head vigorously. “Happy?” she spurted.

Arya slid another glass down the table. “Nope. Drink.”

“Arya, no. I don’t want to get drunk. It would be classless to arrive to my own wedding hungover,” Sansa said.

A table over, the red head climbed into Theon’s lap. “Not so shy anymore, is he?” the woman ground herself against Theon.

Theon gulped down more beer. “Just took him a moment to come out.”

“He’s a big boy. I’ve had bigger,” the woman smirked.

Sansa blanched at the eerily familiar smirk.

“And he’s still growing,” Theon smiled and smacked her ass. “He’s skilled too.”

“Is that so?” the woman got off of Theon’s lap and turned her back toward him, sitting on top of Theon’s groin.

“Come home with me and I won’t have to tell you about it,” Theon said.

Arya gagged. “Ew. Oh gods, I didn’t think anything could possibly be worse than seeing Lady give birth, but that was horrifying. I can’t stop thinking about Theon’s dick now. Ew!!”

Arya across the table for the shot glass, but Sansa snatched it up.

“I need this more than you,” she said. Because she was not spending the night thinking about Theon’s sex life. She tossed back the second shot.

The red head reached her hand down and began massaging Theon’s bulge through his pants.

“More Arya! We need more!” Sansa urged.

“On it!” Arya scurried away, desperate to save herself from the obscenity beside them.

**********************************

With Robb keeping an eye on Catelyn and Olenna, Margaery found herself enjoying her party. As always, Olenna had outdone herself with her choice of food. The food was rich, nothing was too dry or too bland. Ned and Mace got along splendidly. Jacobey was the center of attention, no shocker there.

Before dinner Margaery had been able to catch up with Dany and her cousins. She showed off her gorgeous engagement ring to all those who had yet to see it.

“Where’s the honeymoon, Marge?” prodded Elinor between courses.

“Sansa’s Northern right? You guys going to take an adventure tour north of the Wall?” asked Megga.

Margaery snorted. “No way in hell. I barely survived Christmas in Winterfell. I’d be a Margecicle if we went any further up.”

“Is it Mereen?” asked Dany. She sipped her water. “That’s where Drogo and I went. There’s a lovely blend of history and leisure activities there.”

Margaery shook her head. “We’re staying close to home, actually. The House starts its session again in two weeks. I can’t afford to go across the world right before introducing my bill for approval.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s Highgarden,” Elinor scooted her glass away as a waiter placed another plate of food- herb lamb with rice and potatoes- in front of her.

Margaery did the same. “Sansa adores Highgarden.”

Daenerys groaned. “Margaery the point of a honeymoon is to have an adventure to start your marriage. Go somewhere exotic.”

“How much time did you spend exploring your exotic city?” Margaery took a drink of her wine.

Daenerys glanced behind next to her and blushed. Her husband was deep in conversation with Jon, whom Margaery learned was also Daenerys’s nephew.

“That’s not the point,” Daenerys argued.

“Why waste time traveling across the sea when the only exotic things I’m interested in involve Sansa a lack of clothing?” Margaery laughed at the blush spreading across Daenerys’s and Elinor’s faces.

“I agree with Margaery. When I get married, I don’t plan on leaving the bedroom for a week,” Megga piped in.

The girls giggled and ate.

Margaery looked down the table to check on her grandmother and good mother. Her grandmother was droning away about something to Robb. The poor man was struggling to appear interested. Catelyn had gotten up from her seat, probably to use the restroom.

On the table, Margaery’s phone buzzed with a notification. Once she unlocked her phone, her snap chat app opened and started playing a video from Arya.

The message on the bottom of the screen read “She don’t want to lose your luv”. Although the video was dark, Margaery could make see Sansa, standing on what appeared to be a stage. She was swaying this way and that, bobbing her head to some music. Then she raised a mic to her face.

“Josie’s on a vacation far away

Come around and talk it over.

There’s so many things that I want to say

You know I like my girls a little bit older.”

Sansa winked, and tumbled forward. Margaery recognized the song instantly. The song that played in the car when Margaery took Sansa on their first date. That was her Sansa. Even drunk she could be sentimental.

“I don’t want to lose your love tonight! I just want to use your love tonight!” Sansa shouted and slurred.

“What’s that?” asked Catelyn. She leaned over down over Margaery’s shoulder. Too late to hide the evidence. “Is that Sansa?”

“A little bachelorette revelry. Nothing to be concerned of,” Margaery assured her. Sansa’s voice began slurring so bad it no longer sounded like Common Tongue. She never could remember all the lyrics to the song.

The next second the screen was filled with a thinly clothed man’s crotch thrusting back and forth toward the phone. Arya’s giggles intermingled with Sansa’s shouts of  “Stop trying to seduce my fiancé! She’s not interested in your penis!”

High pitched yelps drowned out Arya’s growing laughter as the man scrambled out of the way, chased by Sansa.

            The camera turned around to face Arya. “All is well, Tyrell. Arya out.”

            The girls around Margaery sniggered and Margaery fought to contain her own laughter. Catelyn, on the other hand, looked concerned. “Excuse me, I need to call my daughter.”

            Catelyn rushed into the hallway, muttering to herself along the way.  Down the table, Ned watched his wife leave in a rush. He bit off a piece of lamb and raised an eyebrow at Margaery. Margaery smiled and raised a glass toward him as her gaggle of friends giggled around her. Ned hesitatingly raised his own glass in return.

****************************

Alcohol made parties better. That was why the gods made alcohol, to make Sansa feel bubbly and happy inside.

“You-you should all come to my wedding tomorrow!” Sansa said. “You and you and you,” she pointed to the group of people around her.

“We are all coming Sansa,” Jeyne placed a hand on Sansa’s shoulder and sat her down.

Sansa gasped. “Jeyne when did you get here?”

“I’ve been here all night Sans. Remember?” Jeyne sat down next to her.

The overhead speakers blared a funky baseline. Sansa shot up on wobbly legs. “I love this song. Arya!”

“Right here Sansa”, Arya held the ear that Sansa likely just busted with her shouts.

“I want to sing to Margie again! Where is she?” Sansa missed Margaery. Missed her smile and her hair. Her long, curly, fun hair.

A ringing noise shrilled through the music. She didn’t remember that part of the song. Arya took her phone out of her back pocket. “Oh shit.”

That was how they talked to Margaery before. Sansa tried to grab the phone as Arya answered, “Hey mum.”

“I don’t want to sing for mum, I want to sing for Margie!” Sansa whined.

Arya held a finger to her lips shushed her. “No mum, everything is fine, why?”

Sansa pouted and looked around. The red and blue lights looked brighter now than they had earlier. They shined directly on Annette. No Janet? Yvette? Whatever her name was, Sansa decided she liked her. She seemed cool and danced well and her hair matched Sansa’s. Sure she spent the entire night all over Theon, but that was a forgivable offense. Even Theon deserved attention every once in awhile.

“Twelve drinks,” Arya mumbled.

“HOW MANY?!” her mother’s voice rang from the phone. Arya winced and held the phone away from her ear.

“Relax mum, I’ve got my eye on her. She wouldn’t loosen up,” Arya said.

Sansa grabbed another drink off the table and tossed it back. Normally she hated Dornish gin. Not now though. It was a beautiful gift from the gods. Almost as beautiful as Margaery. Who still needed to hear Sansa sing.

Tired of waiting, Sansa snatched the phone from Arya. “Margie! I miss you!”

“Sweetheart, this is mum. Are you okay?” her mother asked as though speaking to a child.

“Mummy I miss Margie! I want to talk to her,” Sansa whined.

“Okay, okay darling. Let me go get her,” she could hear her mother’s clacking heels in the background, followed by the loud applause. There was another voice speaking that Sansa knew, but couldn’t name. 

“Seven hells, 12 drinks? Her limit in college was 4,” Jeyne whispered.

“That clearly hasn’t changed,” Arya whispered back.

The applause on the other end of the phone grew louder. Her mother’s muffled voice spoke too far from the phone to be understandable.

A second later Sansa heard her favorite noise. “Sansa are you there?”

She squealed. “Margie! It’s you!”

Margaery chuckled. The background noise faded out again and it was just Margaery. “How’s your party?”

“It’d be better with you,” Sansa said.

“I know what you mean. I miss you too,” Margaery said.

The baseline from the song playing in the bar reached the chorus again. Sansa couldn’t help but join in “I believe in miracles! Since you came along, you sexy thing! I believe in miracles! Where you from, you sexy thing!”

Margaery laughed. “Oh gods you must be drunk.”

“Only a little!” Sansa stood up. “You should come. Here. Not the other kind of come.”

“I’d love to sweetling, but father is about to make his toast. I have to go okay. Love you.” Margaery’s heels clacked again.

“I love you mooorree,” Sansa sang.

“Bye, darling,”

“Goodbye,” Sansa hung up Arya’s phone. She gave it back to her sister.

“Where are you going?” Arya followed Sansa out of the main room.

“To Margie! My baby needs me to save her!” Sansa punches her fist in the air like Superwoman launching into the sky.

“What gave you that idea?” Arya manages to get in front of her, blocking her off from the door.

“She sssaid Mace is giving a toassts. That’s code for ‘Get me the hell out of here!’” Sansa flailed her arms in the air.

“Or it means her father is giving doing a pre-wedding toast.”

“Well, we’ll find out, won’t we?”

Theon stumbled into the lobby holding up a beer bottle. “Guess who got a date for tomorrow? Mm gonna have the sexiest woman there on my arm.”

“Do you even know that woman’s name?” Arya asked.

“Ygritte,” Theon turned up his nose, proud of showing up his maid of honor rival.

“Her last name?” Arya prodded.

“Strippers don’t have last names Arya. That’s rude to assume so,” Sansa tried get around Arya.

“Yeah. Don’t be so pre- presump- presumpturious,” Theon scrambled to string an intelligent word together.

“We’re wasting time! We have to go!” Sansa once more tried to get around Arya, and once more failed.

“Okay, okay,” Arya held out her hands. “We’ll go. Let me get Jeyne and call a cab. Everything else has been paid for for the night.”

Sansa sighed and tapped her foot. A begrudging acceptance of Arya’s terms.

Arya quickly went back into the bar room.

Several minutes later she came back with Jeyne in tow. “Alright, Sans, the cab will be here in 5. Then you can play knight in white armor for your prin…cess. Sans?”

They were gone. She and Jeyne looked all over the bar room to see if they had gone back in, but found nothing. Sansa’s phone went straight to voice mail and Theon’s buzzed on the table when Jeyne tried his number.

“Where would they have gone?” Jeyne asked.

Shit. Shit this was not good. She was a dead woman. “I know how to find them.”

Arya hit the speed dial on her phone and prayed to the old gods that her father would answer.

*****************************

            “And I know my daughter could not have chosen a more kind, beautiful person to share the rest of her life with,” Mace raised his glass. “To Margaery.”

            “To Margaery!” the rest of the room chanted and raised their glasses.

            As far as speeches went, Margaery was relieved. She was afraid he would go for something overly dramatic and humorous. This was simple and sweet. Perhaps Ned had given him a few pointers over dinner.

            Next was Ned. No matter how many times she saw him tonight, he would never stop looking strange with his long hair and beard in such a nice suit.

            He cleared his throat. “Good evening. My name is Eddard Stark, father of Sansa and soon to be good father to Margaery. The day Sansa brought Margaery home, I wasn’t sure what to think. My little girl doesn’t trust easily anymore, yet-”

            A phone rang shrilly at the end of the table where Ned’s family and Margaery’s parents sat. Catelyn scrambled to answer it. “Hello?”

            Olenna rolled her eyes and sipped her goblet. “The nerve of some people. She at least could have had the courtesy to take the call outside.”

            Margaery cringed, but fortunately Catelyn didn’t notice the comment.

            “ARYA MYLDRED STARK!” Catelyn screamed.

            Margaery searched the table for Robb, wondering why he hadn’t sprinted to calm Cat. He was holding a sleeping Jacobey while Talisa was nowhere to be seen.

            “Myldred? I see her out dated sense of decorum  doesn’t end with interior design.”

            Catelyn looked murderous. Between the phone call and Olenna’s commentary, the woman had lost all her patience.

            To avoid a funeral following her wedding, Margaery took action.

            “Sorry,” Robb whispered as Margaery passed him.

            Margaery gently took Catelyn by the arm. “Catelyn, let’s come outside, please? You can have more privacy there.”

            Glancing between Margaery’s pleading expression and Olenna’s smug, ongoing, commentary, Catelyn finally acquiesced. Arya’s voice was rambling on the other end of the call.

            Margaery followed Catelyn into the hall. As soon as the door shut, a steady flow of chatter emanated from the ballroom.

“Young lady, you have ten seconds to explain how you lost two people,” Catelyn paces up and down the hall.

Half-amused and half-concerned, Margaery sent a simple text to Sansa: “What are you doing?”

“I took the GPS tracker off your phones when you turned 18,” Catelyn said, clearly regretting that mistake now.

Arya’s voice whined through Catelyn’s phone. “Do not use that language! What made you think that leaving her with Greyjoy was a good idea? Oh, crone help me, I’m going to need to get your father. She couldn’t have gone too far..”

Sansa’s response text came quickly. A picture of her and Theon making weird faces flashed on the screen. Behind her, Margaery spotted a sign for Seaworth’s Boats.

“Is there a Seaworth’s Boats close by?” Margaery asked.

Catelyn repeated the question to Arya. “Call me as soon as you find her…I love you too. Goodbye.”

Catelyn sighed. “Why couldn’t I have raised all boys,” She turned back to Margaery. “Thank you, Margaery. I’m sorry if I ruined your toasts. I’m sure you’re grandmother will have plenty to say about it when we go back in.”

Margaery took Catelyn hand and clasped her other one over the top of it. “Don’t fret about Grandmother. She’s probably drunken enough to fall asleep by now. And speeches are always a bore.”

Catelyn smiled gratefully. As she went back in, Margaery took her phone out and tapped a text to Arya: “Find my fiancé or I will wear your dog’s pelt like a coat.”

***********************

“This was where mum said to look,” Arya said.

Jeyne wrapped her jacket tighter around herself. “Why would Sansa come this way?”

“Hell if I know. Maybe they went farther on?”

The girls walked to the end of the side walk. The dilapidated buildings looked more intimidating illuminated by street lamps. The one lit building was a tattoo parlor. A raw stench attacked Arya’s nose, causing her to gag. In the alley beside the parlor was a pile of vomit that completely missed the trashcan right next to it.

“They passed by here,” Arya said.

“Uhm, Arya...” Jeyne said, staring into the parlor’s window.

Arya looked over and blanched. Theon was sitting in the on a bench in the parlor, flipping through a red binder.

Both girls rushed into the parlor.

“Hi guys! You finally made it!” Theon grinned.

“Why did you run off?” Jeyne handed Theon’s phone back to him.

“I’ve been looking for this. And we didn’t run. We walked at a reasonable pace,” Theon said.

Arya looked around the room. Aside from tattoo sketches and an assortment of piercings, the place was empty. “Where’s Sansa?”

“Oh, she’s in the back. She already knew what she wanted, so the tattoo man is starting with her. Do you think I could pull this off on my arm arm?” Theon pointed to a squid shaped oddly like a uterus.

“She’s getting a tat?! Oh no oh no oh no,” Arya ran to the back room Theon had gestured to.

“Ow!” Sansa shouted.

Arya threw open the door. Sansa lay on her stomach on a metal slab for a table. A red haired, red bearded, half giant man bent over her back with a needle gun pressed to the bottom of Sansa’s back. Sansa flinched. When she glanced up, she smiled wide. “Aaarrryy!!! This is Tormund! He’s super nice. He even gave me a discount!”

“Hold still, little one,” said Tormund.

“You have to stop, now. She can’t get a tattoo,” Arya walked farther into the room.

The man didn’t glance up from his work. “The woman paid and I’ve already started. Unless there’s a medical reason to stop, you’d best get comfortable girl.”

“She’s drunk. I can report you to the police,” Arya crossed her arms. It sickened her to think that she was resorting to her mother’s arguments.

The man looked up. “If she’s sober enough to legibly sign her name on the waiver, she’s sober enough to get a tattoo.”

He resumed his work.

“Ary, I want it! You said you wanted me to do something fun!” Sansa said.

Arya sat in the chair next to Sansa. “Not if it meant I’ll be waking up in a morgue tomorrow.”

Sansa ignored the comment and lolled her head to the side.

“Please tell me you at least got a good one,” Arya groaned.

Sansa smiled again and pointed to the sketch of the tattoo she was getting. “I wouldn’t get anything less than classy.”

**********************************

Margaery arrived home well after midnight. Miraculously, she and Robb managed to keep Olenna and Catelyn separated for the rest of the night. Every time they would begin glaring at each other, either Robb would turn Catelyn’s attention to Jacobey or Margaery would ask her Grandmother advice for what to do in Dorne.

Although she wasn’t thrilled with spending her honeymoon there rather than in Highgarden, she couldn’t say no to the gift Garlan and Willas jointly got her. She knew Sansa would be thrilled. Her fiancé had never been to Dorne but hung pictures of the famous Water Pools all over her little library.

Without Sansa home, Lady followed Margaery throughout the house. Once Arya found Sansa, she called Catelyn and Margaery felt like she could relax again. She’d likely be home much later, which was fine with Margaery. Let her finally enjoy her night.

Margaery cleaned the make-up off her face. Her hair remained stiff after she let it down. She brushed her fingers through the curls, loosening them. She undressed and looked at herself in the mirror. A smile spread across her face. This was her last night as Margaery Tyrell. Tomorrow she would become Margaery Stark-Tyrell.

Interrupting her internal glee, the doorbell rang. Margaery wrapped herself in a robe, wondering that if it was Sansa, why she didn’t use her key.

Indeed, it was Sansa. The moment Margaery opened the door, her fiancé burst in and ran straight to the sink, wretching and puking.

Margaery gave Arya a look. “What did you do?”

Arya shrank at her future good-sister’s glare, but then regained her confidence. “I kept up with her. That was my job. You should be thanking me that I didn’t let her run wild with Greyjoy. Speaking of which, he lost your house key.”

“There’s a difference between a night of fun and nearly killing my fiancé,” Margaery scowled. Arya backed down again.

“I did my best!” Arya stamped her foot like a child.

Margaery shook her head. “At least she didn’t do anything too stupid.”

Arya laughed nervously. “Yep. Well, uh, goodnight. See you tomorrow.”

She scurried off to the waiting cab without a glance back.

Margaery shut the door and went to Sansa, still bent over the sink. Wild red hair fell into her face. Fortunately, Sansa kept herself from vomiting into her hair. Margaery tucked it back.

When Sansa straightened back up, she smiled and ducked her head for a kiss. Margaery evaded her lips. “Darling, why don’t you clean up. I’ll take care of this, okay?”

Sansa grinned goofily. She tucked a strand of hair behind Margaery’s ear. “I love you Margie. Hurry up, because I have some plans for us.” She wiggled her eyebrows in a way that was meant to come off as seductive but just looked silly.

By the time Margaery finished cleaning the sink, the air smelled of thick chlorine. She turned off all the lights and went to the bedroom. Sansa had changed into an oversized t-shirt. She fell asleep laying against the pillows  on top of the green silk sheets. Hair flung into her open mouth. Margaery smiled to herself and got in bed, reaching across Sansa to turn off the lamp light. She thanked the Mother than Sansa had brushed her teeth and softly kissed her fiance’s cheek before snuggling against her and dreaming of tomorrow.


	4. The Wedding

Usually Margaery wasn’t a fan of early morning wake up calls. This morning was an exception. Bells chimed on her phone on the night stand, shaking her from her sleep. She reached across Sansa and hit the off button, then sat up and stretched.

Today was the day. Her blood was already pumping with excitement. Knowing her grandmother, the preparations were already underway.

Beside her Sansa groaned. She wrapped her arms around Margaery’s waist and squeezed tight, burrowing her head against Margaery’s upper thigh. “Marge I don’t feel good.”

Margaery giggled and brushed Sansa’s hair out of her face. “Rough night?”

Sansa groaned again. Sleepy blue eyes blinked up at Margaery. Margaery turned over and laid beside Sansa. She kissed the top of her head.

“I don’t remember. My head hurts, my back hurts, and I feel nauseated. We have to cancel,” Sansa mumbled.

“If you want to cancel, that’s fine. I’ll just find some other pretty red head to marry today,” Margaery jested.

She kicked off the sheets and started getting out of bed, only to be pulled back again. Her face landed inches away from Sansa’s this time.

“You wouldn’t,” Sansa challenged.

Margaery hummed. “I’ve been waiting 26 years for this day. One way or another I’m getting married.”

This time when Margaery tried to get up, she was able to without protest. The bedsheets ruffled as she started to change. She knew she had Sansa’s full attention by the time she slipped on her pants. She turned back to find Sansa propped up against the pillows as if watching a show. She smirked as she returned to the side of the bed. She bent down and kissed Sansa.

“Can I expect you there Ms. Stark?” she teased.

Sansa pinched her rear and Margaery squeaked. “That’s the future Mrs. Stark-Tyrell to you.”

Margaery giggled and kissed Sansa again. “So that’s a yes?”

“A thousand hangovers couldn’t stop me,”

 

 

 

Theon grumbled as he trudged to the car. “Stupid wedding. Stupid Robb. Stupid morning.”

“Shut it,” said Robb as he revved the engine.

Theon got in. “I don’t see why we have to get up so early. The wedding’s not until 2.”

“You’re the maid of honor. You have to help Sansa get ready,” Robb said.

“So I shouldn’t need to be there until noon right? That’s another 5 hours of sleep I could have had. Look it’s barely sunrise!” Theon whined.

Robb shook his head.

From what Theon remembered of last night, it was brilliant. The stripper agreed to be his date. He couldn’t remember her name, but that was fine. He could just ask Arya. Sansa had fun. He thought. To be honest, he didn’t pay much attention to Sansa. How could he when his cock was so close to such sexiness?

“Can we at least stop for breakfast? I’m dying for some pancakes.” He hadn’t eaten since well before the partying had begun.

Robb reached into the little cubby on the door. He pulled out a package and threw it at Theon. “Bonapetite.”

“This isn’t a pancake,” Theon said.

“And you’re not getting one,”

Theon crossed his arms over his chest. He couldn’t figure out what Robb’s problem was. Perhaps something happened at Margaery’s party.

“What’s this all about? You’re not even in the wedding party. Shouldn’t you be begging your wife to fix your morning wood right now?”

“No. I have a son who slept in my bed last night.”

“So?”

Robb rolled his eyes. “Last night I told Margaery that I would handle mum and Olenna for her so she could enjoy her party. And I blew it. So today we’re going to make sure that mum and Mrs. Tyrell stay out of each other’s way so Margaery and Sansa can have a hitch-free wedding.”

Theon stuffed a bite of the breakfast bar into his mouth. “And why does that involve me?” Food crumbs fell from his mouth.

“Because last night would have been fine if you hadn’t wandered off with Sansa.” They turned into the parking lot farthest from the godswood.

“She’s the one who insisted on looking for Margaery!”

“Margaery and a tattoo shop or two completely different things,” Robb slammed the car door. Theon unbuckled and got out of the car. He wondered if marriage turned all people into humorless stiffs.

“No one is here yet, not even your crazy mum,” Theon said.

“That gives us time to plan. I’ll take care of mum, you keep an eye on Margaery’s grandmother,” Robb decided. “Margaery’s party is going to prepare in the cabin at the end of the path.”

“That old bag hates me!” Theon whined.

“That’s one thing she and mum have in common,” Robb muttered under his breath. Aloud he said, “Best of luck. See you on the flip side.”

Robb started down his path, leaving Theon to wonder why the hell he wanted to be a maid of honor.

 

 

Beneath the shaded elms of the godswood, Margaery no longer needed her sunglasses. With her car parked outside the little cabin and no other Tyrells in sight, there was nothing to do but wait.

Northern tradition dictated that Sansa and Margaery could not see each other again until the ceremony. Sansa had insisted Margaery use the cabin to prepare while Sansa dressed and prepared in large tent Catelyn had constructed just for this purpose.

Bright sunlight gleamed through the leaves and checkered the cabin walls. As she got out of her car, a silver jeep rolled to a stop.

Margaery grinned and started for the car. A curly brown head popped out of the car and grinned back at her. “The boys are back!”

Margaery ran forward and jumped into her brother’s arms. “Whoo!”

“Oh no. The Terrible Tyrells are back together,” Renly smiled.

Margaery lets go of Loras and hugs Renly. “It’s good to see you Mr. President.”

“Mr. President People’s Hottest Man,” Renly corrects.

Margaery rolled her eyes. Loras put his arm around Renly. “You see that we’ve managed to work on that ego problem.”

“I see you created one,” Margaery said. “Do you have it?”

Loras nodded and popped open the trunk. He held up a long, white dress, embroidered with roses and a vine. “It’s very…you.”

“It’s perfect,” Margaery can’t quit smiling.

She led the boys into the cabin. “Grandmother said she’s making a slight detour to check on the cake, but Elinor and Willas should be here soon.”

To her surprise, Theon was sitting at the little table by the fireplace. Shouldn’t he be with Sansa? He was her maid of honor?

“Theon? What are you doing here?” Margaery asked.

Theon’s head jerked over. “Hey Margaery!” his voice shook, nervous and Margaery could guess why.

She walked over sweetly, then smacked the back of his head.

Theon pressed his hand against the spot. “Ow!”

“You’re lucky I didn’t hit you somewhere else. Sansa told me that you used her party to hit on strippers.” Margaery crossed her arms.

“It was one stripper,” Theon stood up. “Renly. Loras.”

“Hello Theon,” Renly said.

“Sansa’s tent is down the path,” Margaery said.

“She asked me to help Olenna,” Theon blurted.

Margaery raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think grandmother would want your help. She hardly wanted my input.”

“You never know,” Theon shrugged.

“Right,” Margaery hummed, “Well she won’t be in here. She’s leaving Elinor in charge of dressing. So out with you.”

“Okay. Have a lovely, uhm, dressing,” Theon waved at Renly and Loras and went out.

“That was strange,” Loras said.

“Everything about Theon is strange,” Margaery upped him.

 

            “Arya!” screamed Catelyn.

            Sansa twisted her neck to see the reflection of the bandage on her back in the mirror behind her. “I’ve never even wanted a tattoo!”

            What would she say to Margaery? ‘Looking great babe. By the way check out my awesome ink!’?

            “At least she got a cool looking one,” Arya offered. Her mother glowered at her before turning her attention back to the panicking bride.

            “Mum what am I supposed to do? Oh gods. Oh gods,” Sansa paced, dragging the train of the dress on the floor behind her.

            Catelyn gently held her shoulders to stop her before she ruined the dress. “Sansa, darling, relax. Let’s get through the wedding before we worry about anything else. The dress will cover it until after the wedding.”

            “But it’s too tight with the bandage,” Sansa reminded her.

            “I can let out the seem a little Sansa. Don’t fret. We’ll need a replacement bandage though. Let Ros start fixing your hair. I’ll tell Arya what I need.”.

            Sansa nodded and let Ros take her to the bathroom.

            Catelyn turned to Arya. “Go home. Get me my sewing kit and stop by the store and buy a fresh large bandage for your sister.”

            Believing she was about to get off lucky, Arya started for the door.

            “Ah-ah. We’re not done missy,” Catelyn scolded. “You’re going to find a way to make this up to your sister. I don’t know how, but you will.”

            “Mum she wandered off,” Arya whined.

            “Sansa showed me what she wanted her party to be,” Catelyn said.

            “We made it better,” Arya interrupted.

            “You nearly lost her! If I even see that Greyjoy today, he’d best hope there’s a crowd of witnesses around. Anyway, hurry home. This dress will take time. I’ll call Robb and tell him we’re going to be later than planned. He’ll have to manage the coordination until we’re finished here.”

            “Alright mum,” Arya said. She made it one step out of the doorway before her mother called her back. “Yes mum?”

            “Make sure your father wears the navy tie. The indigo is far from appropriate for the color scheme.”

            Arya rolled her eyes. “Sure mum.”

            When she got married—if she got married—she was going to insist on eloping.

 

            Theon adjusted his bow tie as he came down the path. He hoped Margaery didn’t mind him using her dressing area to get ready. It’s not like anyone was there when he got dressed.

            He’d hoped Olenna would spend the morning by Margaery’s side. He could fade into the background and fulfill his obligation without having to actually confront the frightening hag.

            The ceremony would be held at the weir tree. He found Olenna there ordering people this way and that.

            “No, no! I said red roses on the left and white lilies on the right! Were you born with a brain or did you just sell it for those ungodly earrings?”

            Theon gulped. How was he supposed to reign that in?

            “You there!” Olenna pointed to him.

For a second Theon contemplated running, but decided that only cowards run from scary, naggy old women. He put on his confident face and strode forward. “Morning Mrs. Tyrell. Something I can help you with?”

            “You’re Sansa’s maid of honor, are you not?”

            “Well technically-”

            “There’s a line of early arrivals forming and the bloody ushers are late,” Olenna glared at him as if asking him how he intended to fix this.

            “I- I suppose I can fill in for now?” Theon shrugged.

            “Oh genius boy,” Olenna sneered. “The day’s barely begun and the wedding is already in jeopardy. I should be setting up the reception. Where the hell is Catelyn? That broad…” Olenna grumbles the rest under her breath.

            “Mother said there’s been an issue with Sansa’s dress,” Theon thought he had never heard a more wonderful sound than Robb’s voice saving him from this dreadful situation. Robb walked around Theon and stopped next to Olenna. “She sends her deepest apologies, but she’s told me exactly what needs to be done. I can handle it from here.”

            “Ah yes, the man that lets a four-year-old decorate his kitchen has come to save us,” Olenna snapped.

            Robb let the comment roll off himself. “He’s a future interior designer. Mother told me exactly how things are supposed to be set up. I know you’re quite busy today, Mrs. Tyrell. We shouldn’t add to that stress should we?”

            Olenna held his gaze for a moment before saying. “My doctor did say to keep my stress down since I started that new blood pressure medication.” She sighed and gave in. “Alright. But if a single flower is out of place…”

            “Of course Mrs. Tyrell. I do believe you have a reception to organize,” Robb patted her shoulder.

            As he led her away, Theon breathed a sigh of relief. Snobby guests, he could handle as long as they didn’t require him to go anywhere near Olenna Tyrell.

 

            As soon as Sansa arrived her mother hustled her to her tent. Her hair and dress looked perfect when they left and she hoped that sitting in the car wouldn’t crinkle the fabric too much.

            “You look marvelous!” Jeyne exclaimed when she saw Sansa. She hugged Sansa tight. “Margaery is going to love it.”

            “Oh I know she will. She had the deciding vote when I bought it,” Sansa smiled.

            “I’m going to get my seat, okay. Relax up there,” Jeyne said.

            Sansa sat on the stool they her mother had demanded be brought in the day before. She was never good at waiting, because waiting meant thinking. Thinking about Margaery, and her family and friends, and what if she fell and ripped her dress…

            The tent flaps ruffled and her father smiled when he saw Sansa sitting in her dress. “You look beautiful Sansa.”

            She stood up in time for him to wrap her in a hug. “Thanks dad.”

            He looked down on her with a mirth in his eyes. “You look so much like your mother. It scares me how much you look like her.”

            “Was mum nervous on your wedding day?” Sansa asked. Her mother never acted nervous, yet Sansa’s stomach kept twisting in knots.  

            “No. No, your mother was confident and ready to finally have it done.” Ned said.

            “Oh,” Sansa said dejectedly.

            “I was shaking like a leaf in winter,” Ned continued.

            Sansa looked up. “Really? But you always do well in front of people.”

            “I wasn’t trying to impress people. I was trying to impress your mother. I wanted her wedding day to be all she’d dreamt of. It seemed like everything had gone wrong leading up to the ceremony. The tailor gave me the wrong size suit, traffic was a nightmare, the priest was hungover,” Sansa blushed at the reminder of her own night, “None of the mattered by the time she walked down that pathway. Your mother was all I saw. She looked at me and I felt like I was soaring. It was just us, no one else was there.”

            He placed his hands on Sansa’s shoulder. “This is for you and Margaery. No one else here matters. And I’ve seen the way that girl looks at you. You could be wearing clown shoes and she’d be over the moon to see you standing under the Weirwood. It’s okay to feel nervous, but I promise all those butterflies will disappear once you see her.”

            Sansa hugged her father around his neck. “Thanks dad.”

            He held her tight. “Anything for my sweet girl.”

            She let go and glanced down at his tie. She smiled and lifted it up. “Mum’s not going to be happy. She said no indigo.”

            Ned sighed. “It’s blue.”

            “Dad, it’s indigo,” Sansa corrected.

            “Blue, indigo, they’re all the same.”

            “Mmmhhmm. Are you going to tell mum that?”

            Ned froze. “Let’s keep this between us til the ceremony.”

            Sansa laughed. Ned kissed his daughter on the cheek. “I love you sweetheart. You’ll never stop being my little girl, no matter who you marry.”

            “I love you too dad,” she said. She hugged him one last time. He scurried off in time to avoid Catelyn.

            “Sansa the septon is ready for you,” Catelyn said. She stopped and smiled softly. “Are you ready?”

            Sansa nodded. “I’m ready.”

 

            Theon’s feet were beginning to ache from walking back and forth across the ground. His shoes weren’t intended for the woods. People were lining up quickly in the humid forest. He was tempted to shed his jacket, but then he saw Ygritte dressed in a gorgeous strapless blue dress.

            “Ygritte, hey!” he came over.

            “Theon. You look nice,” Ygritte complimented.

            “Thanks. Bought the tie myself,” he said.

            “Right…” Ygritte said. “When you said the Godswood, I didn’t think you meant the actual woods.”

            Theon laughed. “Sorry, uhm… You can take those off then I suppose.”

            Ygritte snapped off her heels and carried them in one hand. “So where’s the free booze?”

            “That’s after the ceremony. The reception will be inside,” Theon pointed over her shoulder.

            The two stood awkwardly for a moment. Theon wondered if she wore a bra or not. And how easy it would be to snap it off she did.

            Ygritte cleared her throat. “Are you going to, ah, escort me or something?”

            “Huh? Oh right,” Theon held out his hand and led her forward. He hesitated for a moment. He didn’t want to leave her in the back row alone. Nor did he want to leave her with Margaery’s handsome brother. Leg injury or not, he was a handsome man and charming, which made him a threat.

            He spotted Jon lurking in the middle rows. Perfect. Jon would ignore her to death. He walked Ygritte to the row. “Here you are. Jon, this is Ygritte. Mind keeping her company until the ceremony is over.”

            Jon shrugged and went back to reading whatever book he had brought.

            “Well, hello there,” Ygritte said. “Jon is it?”

            Jon hummed and kept reading. Proud of his decision, Theon returned to his job. Sansa wouldn’t be the only one getting laid tonight.

 

            Margaery lifted the edge of her skirt off the ground. She’d been ready for an hour, waiting for her father to come and begin the ceremony. Loras and Renly had left long ago with compliments on their tongue about how Sansa would hardly be able to stay off of her. The air had turned brisk as dusk came.

Finally, her father came down the path, a wide grin puffing out his red cheeks.

            “Oh Margaery, you look just like the maiden. Or whatever the Northern equivalent is,” Mace huffed.

            Margaery towered over her father in her heels. She prayed they wouldn’t get stuck in the earth as she walked. “Thank you father. You look quite handsome.”

            “Don’t try to placate this old man,” he laughed. He cleared his throat and lifted his lamp. “They’re waiting sweetling.”

            “Sansa is waiting,” Margaery whispered under her breath. 

            She followed her father, reminding herself not to walk too fast. They reached the clearing to the godswood. She ignored her grandmother’s approving smile and nod. She didn’t see Robb’s big grin and didn’t hear Jacobey’s comment about how pretty she looked and didn’t notice Talisa shushing him

            Her world shrank to Sansa standing under the Weirwood, hands clasped together, smiling at Margaery.

            The Septon overseeing the ceremony stepped aside. Margaery and her father stopped across from Ned.

            “Who comes this night before the old gods?” Ned asked, his deep voice booming across the silence.

            “Margaery Tyrell comes to ask the gods blessing to wed. Who comes to claim her?” Mace rumbled.

            “Sansa Stark. Who gives her?” Sansa repeats the words she’s practiced nightly for a month.

            “Mace Tyrell, her devoted father,” Mace said.

            Ned turned to Margaery and grinned slightly before straightening his face. “Margaery, do you take this woman?”

            Margaery smiled. “I take this woman.”

            Sansa took Margaery’s hand and squeezed it tight as they kneel before the tree. Margaery squeezed back as Sansa prayed silently. When she finished, they stood together. Margaery flung her arms around Sansa’s neck and kissed her, catching her off guard.

            Ned cleared his throat. “One more thing, ladies.”

            Margaery turned her head to see Ned holding grey cloak. “Oh. Right, sorry.” She let go of Sansa’s neck and turned toward the waiting attendees. Loras and Renly were holding back giggles at her eagerness. She also noticed Sansa’s cousin looking particularly cozy with a redhead of his own on his arm.

            Sansa draped the cloak over her shoulders. Once secure, Margaery turned and draped  the cloak her father gave her over Sansa’s shoulders.

            Before the old gods and the faith, Sansa was now and forever Margaery’s. Sansa turned around and kissed her hard. Then she pressed her forehead against Margaery’s. Giggles fell from her lips. Margaery couldn’t help but laugh along.

 

            “Ned come here,” Catelyn pulled out her phone. “This is navy.” She held up the end of his tie. “This is not.”

            Ned rolled his eyes. “It’s over Cat. You can relax now. Sit down. Drink some wine. Enjoy some cake.”

            “I wish Robb had a wedding like this,” she said.

            “Robb was more than happy with his small ceremony. Look at him,” Ned pointed at Robb, who was on the ground pretending to be a wolf while Jacobey ran in circles. The first thought that crossed Catelyn’s mind was that he was going to ruin his suit. Forget the suit. She couldn’t deny how happy he looked with his son and wife.

            “How long do these pictures take?” Catelyn asked.

            “However long it takes Arya to produce something Mrs. Tyrell approves of,” Ned said.

            “I’ve never met a woman so…urgh. There’s not even a proper word for her!” Catelyn drank from her glass.

            Ned put an arm around her back and rubbed her shoulder. “You’d be surprised how many women there are like her.”

            Catelyn glared at him. “I know what you’re insinuating.”

            “How can I be insinuating anything. I can’t even spell that,” Ned smiled. Catelyn blushed. His goofy charm never failed to work on her.

            Over Ned’s shoulder, Catelyn finally spotted the girls—women—walking in, Margaery clinging to her arm.

            “I want to be the first to officially greet them,” Catelyn whispered.

            She got Ned up and went to the brides. She opened her mouth to greet them as Mrs. And Mrs. Stark-Tyrell when Margaery’s father tapped his daughter’s shoulder from behind. “How does it feel to be Mrs. And Mrs. Tyrell-Stark?”

            Margaery hugged her father and laughed. ‘It’s Stark-Tyrell, father. And it feels wonderful.” She kissed Sansa on the cheek.

            Catelyn silently cursed the gods for letting the oaf steal her opportunity.

            “Mum, dad,” Sansa said. She rushed over and hugged them both. “Did you like the ceremony?”

            “It was beautiful, sweetheart,” Catelyn said. “I’m so proud of you. You and Margaery.”

            Sansa blushed. “Thanks mum.”

            Margaery returned to her spot beside Sansa. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to steal my wife back already, Mrs. Stark.”

            “And give up my renovated office space? Please, keep her,” Catelyn joked.

            “I intend to,” Margaery said. She laced her fingers between Sansa’s. “Let’s go, darling. I asked Grandmother if we could skip straight to the pie cutting.”

            Sansa nodded and Margaery immediately dragged her off.

            Catelyn stayed there clinging to Ned’s arm until she realized, “Pie? That hag! It was supposed to be a cake!”

 

            Of all the disappointing dates, Theon had had, this wasn’t the worst. There was still the time he dated Robb. And the time he went on a Tinder date with Yara. Still, it cracked the top five.

            After the ceremony, Theon had sought out his date. Surely she couldn’t have gone far with Mr. No Personality. Oh how wrong he’d been.

            He found them by the edge of the trail with Jon’s hair ruffled and his shirt partially unbuttoned as Ygritte pinned him against a tree. And based on his reactions, he was more than happy to let the woman have her way with him.

            “Ygritte!” Theon cried.

            Ygritte turned around surprised, “Theon. Lovely seein’ you here. Unfortunately, I don’t think things will work between us. We’re just too much a like.”

            Her words stung not because she dumped him at a wedding, but because she had been too caught up in Jon to even look at him. Just because Jon was handsome and brooding and mysterious didn’t make him more of a catch than Theon.

            “Another one,” he told the bar tender. He was on his fourth drink.

            Arya slid into the stool next to him. “Didn’t you have enough last night?”

            “I’m maid of honor. That gives me a bonus of five more drinks,” Theon said.

            Arya looked out to the tables to see Jon and Ygritte making goofy eyes at each other. “She wasn’t a good match for you anyway. You need a girl who can appreciate you for who you are, not just because of booze.”

            “Pffft,” Theon gulped another drink.

            “You’re a good guy Theon. Stupid and arrogant and impulsive and a bit of a jerk..”

            “Was this going somewhere?”

            Arya looked straight at him. “You’re good hearted and funny. You’ve always been there for Robb and you’re good with Jacobey. Girls like that men. To someone, you’re the greatest catch out there.”

            Theon blushed. “Thanks Arya. You look really pretty by the way.”

            Arya looked down at her dress. “Where’s yours?”

            “My hairy legs offended Catelyn too much, so she made me wear this instead,” Theon smiled.

            Arya looked at him curiously and Theon felt something between them shift. Without thinking, they both leaned in and their lips met for a split second before both pulled away. They stared at each other horrified.

            “Never speak of this?” Arya said.

            “Never” agreed Theon. Arya nearly ran to her parents’ table as Theon tossed back another drink.

            Maybe this was a top three night.

 

            Sansa struggled to hold back her blush as Margaery whispered in her ear. She was sure Renly’s toast was beautiful, but no one could expect her to pay attention to it when Margaery was telling her all the things she wanted to do to her to consummate their marriage.

            “To Margaery and Sansa!” he finally said.

            Sansa clapped louder than necessary to cover that she was not listening. “Is that it?” she whispered to Margaery.

            “Almost,” Margaery whispered back.

            Sansa groaned. She was beyond tired. She’d been up all day and she just wanted to be alone with Margaery. Marriage was for two, not two hundred.

            Garlan climbed back on stage. He’d given his speech nearly half an hour ago. It was one of the better written ones of the night. Although Sansa’s favorite had been Bran’s.

            “I’m sure you all are tired of hearing us talk, so I’ll keep this short. Before the brides share their first dance, their fathers have requested to share one last dance with them.”

            Ned and Mace came up to them. “Would you do me the honor, sweetheart,” Ned asked.

            Sansa took her father’s hand and followed him to the dance floor. She’d been thrilled when she spotted him practicing with Catelyn a few days ago. Pretending that she didn’t know had been almost as difficult as hiding the engagement ring from Margaery.

            A piano played the first notes of  “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” as Ned led her in a simple waltz. He raised his arm high and twirled her around in a slow circle.

            “I love you dad,” Sansa said, tears pricking her eyes.

            “I’ll always love you darling. But there’s someone who loves you even more.” He raised her hand to his lips, then let her go.

            Sansa turned around and found Margaery waiting for her. She placed one hand on Margaery’s hip, the other on her shoulder. Margaery laid her head on Sansa’s shoulder and hummed the words in her ear. “As a river flows/ surely to the sea/darling so it goes/ some things are meant to be.”

            Sansa raised Margaery’s chin and kissed her deeply. Margaery pulled herself closer to her, holding Sansa tight against her. “I could never stop falling in love with you,” Sansa murmured.

           


	5. The Crush (ft. Elia Sand)

The stack of paperwork in front of her felt like it grew every hour on the hour. Each time Margaery looked up it was as though she hadn’t made a dent in the work that needed to be done. She’d been tempted to give up hours ago, but the president needed notes on the laws the House had proposed and as the intern it was her job to read all of it. If she didn’t do it, none of the other aides would. Randyll Tarly and Edwyne Redwyne were too busy reliving their glory days in the army to think of important political matters.

            She was so deeply embedded in the proposal for stricter medical regulations on uncredited practitioners that the sound of a Styrofoam coffee cup being sat on the table startled her.

            She saw Elia Sand, daughter of Representative Ellaria Sand. President Baratheon was currently in a meeting with the Civil Rights Council, which Ellaria chaired.

            “Sorry,” Elia smiled sweetly at Margaery. “You just looked so tired I thought you could use an energy boost.”

            Margaery smiled back. “Thank you,” she pulled the cup closer to herself. “I’ve been at this for hours. I’d probably be a zombie soon if not for this.”

            The joke was terrible, but the girl giggled as though Margaery was as funny as Dontos, the comedian.

            “That famous Tyrell wit mom told me about wasn’t an exaggeration,” Elia sang.

            “It’s less wit and more bitchiness,” Margaery joked.

            The girl giggled again. “I’ll let you get back to work, but I look forward to seeing you around more.”

            “Have a nice day,” Margaery said politely. She waved the girl off.

            Only later that day, after finishing her cup of coffee, did Margaery realize the girl was flirting with her.

 

            Days at the office became awkward. Margaery tried her best to discourage the girl’s obvious affections. Elia visited the Red Keep frequently, always with a cup of coffee in hand and a grin on her face.

            She really was sweet. She asked about Margaery’s day and tried to brighten her mood whenever she came by.

            Margaery already had that and more with Sansa though.

When she explained the situation to Sansa, Sansa had initially not taken it well. After calming her down and getting her to understand that Elia only had a crush on her and that nothing else was happening, Sansa had asked her to put an end to it.

It’s just…by declining Elia’s advances, Margaery risked alienating a political alliance between President Baratheon and Ellaria Sand. Ellaria was known for her protectiveness concerning her children. There was no doubt in Margaery’s mind that if things went badly when she let down Elia, Renly would be forced between keeping her as an intern and maintaining a strong relationship with the Dornish representative.

She couldn’t ignore Sansa’s wishes. Resigned to her fate as Renly Baratheon’s former intern, Margaery resumed her usual duties. That afternoon, right on schedule, Elia comes by with a coffee in hand. “I know the president is a busy man, but you’re going to develop bags under those pretty eyes if you force yourself to match his pace.”

“Pacing wouldn’t be a problem if those old buggers would pull their weight,” Margaery muttered before remembering what she had to do.

Elia laughed and tucked a black strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re so funny, Margaery.” She pressed her hand against Margaery’s shoulder.

Margaery looked at Elia. “Could you take a seat for a moment?”

Elia smiled and got a chair. She scotted it next to Margaery.

“Something you need a Ancient Dornish Historian’s help with?”

Margaery took a deep breath. “Not exactly. Elia, I get the feeling --and please correct me if I’m wrong—I get the feeling that you are interested in me beyond my being a contemporary of your mother’s. Do you have a crush on me?”

Elia leaned her head against her palm. “Obvious, yeah?”

“A bit. But I can’t entertain it any longer.”

“What’s wrong with a bit of flirting? Just a little indulgence?” Elia asked.

“I have a girlfriend, whom I love. I haven’t been trying to flirt, and I’m sorry if it came off that way. I can’t control your attraction to me, but please, out of respect for my relationship, could you stop indulging your crush?”

Elia sat back. “That girlfriend of yours must have you smitten.” After a moment, she got up and walked away.

Margaery began counting down the moments until Ellaria Sand undoubtedly confronted her. It wasn’t that evening. Nor was it the next day. Nor the next week.

 Two weeks later, Margaery had nearly forgotten about the incident when Elia walked in. She didn’t spare Margaery a glance as she walked past her and up to Senator Cersei Lannister’s nephew Lancel. She smirked at the poor sap. He wouldn’t survive Elia.


	6. The Honeymoon (Sansaery)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here there be smut.

“Here. This is our room,” Sansa called down the halls. She looked over her shoulder to see Margaery hauling the bags and dragging herself down the hall. “You should have let me help.”

Margaery shook her head. Sansa pushed the door open and let Margaery in. As soon as she was through the doorway, Margaery dropped the bags and collapsed on the bed.

Although Margaery’s brothers had been sweet and thoughtful by paying for their honeymoon, a surprise midnight flight immediately after the wedding was unpreferable. Leonette had kindly packed their things before coming to the wedding. Judging by the weight of their bags, she had packed their entire closet.

Sansa was still upset that she didn’t get to say goodbye to Lady. Loras and Renly promised they’d set up a skype with her, but it wasn’t the same.

She shut the door and sat next to Margaery, who was still lying facedown on the bed. She lightly carded her fingers through Margaery’s curls. Margaery was never much use after midnight. Still, no matter how much Sansa reasoned that they could split the load, she had insisted on carrying the bags up.

She got up and went to the bathroom to change into some night clothes. Excited as she had been to consummate her marriage, the late night flight had zapped all energy from them. She managed to get herself out of the dress fine. As she pushed her dress down her legs, she felt the soft plastic still wrapped over her lower back. She peeled it off, revealing the fresh tattoo beneath. Gods what was she thinking? The skin around the ink was still a tender pink.

In the madness before the wedding, her mother had looked up tattoo care. She should be able to take the bandages off now, but she had to put special ointment on to prevent peeling. That would have to wait until morning.

With a sigh and a yawn she put on her night gown. Margaery was still lying down when she came back. “Darling, you have to get up. You can’t sleep in your dress.”

“Yes I can,” she groaned, half-asleep.

Sansa shook her head to herself. Stubborn as always. Then again, so was she.

She pulled down the zipper on the side of her dress. Margaery moved her limp arm just enough for Sansa to finish pulling down the zipper, and was thoughtful enough to roll over so Sansa could tug the dress out from under her. Not quite how she expected to undress her wife on their wedding night.

Unsurprisingly, Margaery wasn’t wearing anything except for her barely-there panties. That didn’t keep desire from pooling in her gut.

She hung the dress up neatly next to her own before turning out the light and finally crawling into bed next to her.

Margaery looped an arm around hers. “I love you, Mrs. Stark-Tyrell.”

“I love you too, Marge,” she whispered before fading into sleep.

 

When Sansa woke up, it was nearly noon. Margaery was still sleeping, back facing her. She went ahead and skyped Renly and Loras.

“How’s my little angel?” Sansa asked, careful to stay quiet and let Margaery sleep.

Renly moved the camera to show Lady sprawled across the floor. “Lady, want to say hi to mummy?” Loras asked.

Lady’s tale wagged. She got up and walked to Loras and Renly. Renly lowered the phone to Lady’s eye level.

“Lady! Who’s been a good girl?”

Lady barked at the phone, pressing her nose up against the screen. When she realized she couldn’t reach Sansa that way, she sat back down and barked more.

“That’s right. You tell them who the alpha is.”

“That would be me, thank you very much.”

Loras scoffed at Renly’s comment. “Bottoms can’t be alphas.”

“I do not want you corrupting my baby! No dirty talk around her!” She ordered, pointing at the phone and speaking too loudly.

“You’re afraid of us corrupting her? She nearly gave poor Stag a heart attack when she jumped him this morning. On the plus side, you may be a Grandma again soon,” Loras winked. “Speaking of corruption of youth, where’s my sister?”

She glanced at Margaery’s hunched shoulders. “Still sleeping. She was pretty worn out.”

“Look who’s talking dirty now.” Renly’s voice sounded more distant now.

“Don’t you have a country to run?” Loras sassed. He stuck his tongue out to his off camera husband then turned back to Sansa.

“I didn’t mean like that. It was a late flight after all. I slept a little on the plane, but Marge couldn’t get comfortable,” She stretched her arms out, flexing her stiff muscles. Her feet still ached a little from the shoes she wore yesterday.

Lady’s head popped back into the screen. She barked and licked Loras’s face before he shoved her away. Sansa laughed. It was uncanny how similar Loras and Margaery could be.

Warm breath suddenly filled her ear. An arm wrapped over her chest. “Get off the phone,” growled Margaery, her voice still raspy with sleep.

“Look who finally woke up! How’s married life Marge?” Loras asked. Margaery paid his question no attention. She slid her hand underneath Sansa’s shirt and dragged her nails over her abdomen.

“It was nice talking Loras. Catch up later, okay?” Sansa begged off.

“We’re done? Theon wanted me to ask you for a favor first. Something about mending a rental tuxedo. And your mother said to tell you there’s ointment at the bottom of the bag for your-”

“Bye Loras!” Sansa cut him off, hoping that Margaery hadn’t caught that last part.

It worked. As soon as the call ended Margaery pinned her arm above her head. She took the phone and tossed it to the other side of the bed. “You woke me up.”

“Sorry. I had to check in on my baby.” She couldn’t help but smile as Margaery rolled on top of her. She sat up straddling Sansa and stretched up. Her breasts lifted with the rest of her torso. Sansa gulped at the sight. She watched Margaery’s eyes darken mischievously. Her lips curved into a lazy smirk.

“I forgive you. You’ll have to make it up to me though,” she leaned forward pressed her forehead against Sansa’s. Sansa’s eyes darted down. Margaery’s bare chest was pressed against her, still wearing her t-shirt. Margaery noticed too. She rolled up the edges of her shirt, gradually revealing pale skin inch-by-inch.

“How so?”

Margaery urged her forward and lifted the shirt over her head, then pushed her back down. She cupped a breast and squeezed. “First we’re going to have slow, sexy married sex right here.” She kissed her forehead. “Right now.” She kissed Sansa’s lips next, deep and slow to illustrate how she foresaw the rest of the afternoon going.

“And then?” Sansa molded her hands down Margaery’s curves until she reached the underwear hugging her hips. Margaery lifted her hips for her and she slid them down slowly.

“Then we’ll take a shower. You’ll make me scream so loud the neighbors will think Psycho is a true story,” she kicked the underwear off her feet and started making quick work of Sansa’s. She laid down on her side, coaxing Sansa to roll over as well. A strand of red hair fell into her face, which Margaery brushed away. “Finally after some flirtatious teasing, I’m going to make you come on the floor.”

Sansa’s legs already shook with the desire for Margaery’s promises. She leaned in and kissed her wife, sliding her tongue between her lips and into her mouth. Margaery moaned softly and rolled onto her back, taking Sansa with her. Sansa’s fingers traced her jawline. Her tongue brushed against Sansa’s before she tilted her head more.

Sansa repositioned herself. She wiggled her leg between Margaery’s thighs and straddled one of Margaery’s. “Sounds marvelous.”

She leaned down and kissed her. Margaery easily took control, sliding her tongue against Sansa’s lips until they opened, then slowly stroking the roof of her mouth. A strangled whimper escaped Sansa’s throat.

Margaery twisted her fingers into Sansa’s already messy hair. Sansa pushed her thigh down against Margaery and moaned at the wetness she felt and groaned in frustration when Margaery’s tongue drew back. Did she really need to breathe?

Deciding that suffocating her wife would have been frowned upon the day after the wedding, Sansa gave her reprieve and nipped at her neck. The short nips turned into sucking hickeys against the base of her neck. She soothed her marks with long swipes of her tongue. Margaery hissed and gasped.

            Sansa moved down to her breasts. She stopped and grinned wide, then looked up at Margaery. Margaery looked down at her and smiled. “What’s so funny?”

            “Absolutely nothing.” She bent down and kissed the tops of her breasts. As Margaery relaxed into the bed, she tickled the spot just beneath her ribcage. Margaery howled with giggles. “Sansa! Sansa stop! You know I hate tickling!”

            She wrapped her mouth around a dark nipple and sucked lightly. Margaery’s laughter devolved into moans as Sansa switched between nipples. Margaery grasped her hips and suddenly Sansa was on her back with Margaery looming over her. Her devilish smirk looked full of bad intention. “I promise you a day of mind blowing orgasms and you repay me with tickling?”

            Sansa shrugged and reached out again, managing to get another fit of laughter from her wife before her hand found itself pinned over her head.

            “If that’s how you’re going to be…” Margaery slithered her hands underneath Sansa and pushed up, trying to roll her over. Sansa pushed back and laughed at Margaery’s attempts until one last push flipped her onto her stomach. Margaery scrambled to straddle legs and pushed her shoulders down into the bed.

            Sansa braced herself for a spank. Except it never came. Instead Margaery gasped. She slackened her hold on Sansa’s shoulders. The tattoo. Sansa scrambled to roll over again, but Margaery refused to move.

            “Wow.”

            Margaery got off of her and Sansa sat up. Unsure how she expected Margaery to react, she could say she was not expecting the wide grin on her face. “I know we haven’t slept together in a week, but I’m pretty sure I would have remembered a picture of a grey and white wolf with a rose in it’s mouth right above your ass. And I know I’d have that ‘Real bitches bite thorns’ lasered into my memory.”

Sansa blushed. “It-it’s not my fault. I was drunk and Theon was drunk and we made it to a tattoo parlor…I don’t know what I was thinking. I can get it removed in a few weeks I think.”

            Margaery closed the distance between herself and Sansa. “I don’t want you to remove it. I like it.” She cupped Sansa’s cheeks and pulled her in for a kiss. She started massaging Sansa’s boobs again and kissed her neck.

            “You do?” Sansa asked. She could hardly focus on the conversation with Margaery tweaking her nipple.

            Margaery nodded against the crook of her neck. “Sexy. Beautiful. Quirky. Like you.”

            She found herself on her back again. Margaery’s thigh pressed against her pussy. She pushed herself up against it and groaned as Margaery pushed back.

            A slow rhythm began. Margaery rode against Sansa’s thigh with the same intensity as she pushed into her. New angles, new pressures, but never too much. As promised it was slow and sensual. Sansa kissed her and tugged on her messy brown curls. She delighted in the groan that followed.

            She needed more. She felt herself reaching close, but not quite getting over the apex. She dug her nails into Margaery’s arse and pulled her up faster. Margaery complied, increasing her pace. She thought of her arousal spreading against Margaery’s thigh, Margaery’s on her thigh. She bit her lip.

            “I love you Margaery. Gods I love you,” she murmured into Margaery’s ear.

            “I love you too Sans. So much my sweet girl. Sweet wife,” From the pattern of her breath, she could tell that Margaery was close.

            The thrusts increased in speed then suddenly stopped. Margaery’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. She started grinding again. As Margaery rode out her orgasm, Sansa lifted her hips off the bed. Even against the erratic movements, the new angle was enough to have Sansa coming.

            They lay on their sides, staring and smiling at each other as they recover. Sansa smooths out the mess of stray hairs on Margaery’s head. “That was worth the late flight.”

            Margaery smirked. “Sweetling, this is only the beginning.”

            And it was. Margaery kept her promise, having Sansa take her in the shower and then fucking Sansa on the rug. The next few days, they did get out. They explored the Water Gardens. Margaery pushed Sansa into the pool and jumped in after her. They tried Dornish restaraunts, saw a local exhibition with lion lizards and other desert creatures, and always ended the night making love. It was absolute bliss.

            On the last full day of their honeymoon, they walked down Sunspear’s busy streets. There was some festival going on. Street venders sold their goods. They tried complimenting the women in an attempt to coerce them into buying things they didn’t need. Margaery bargained with one of the venders for a purse.

            Sansa couldn’t focus on Margaery though. Instead she focused on the kids running this way and that way, chasing a small black dog. Mothers pushed their babies in strollers or carried them close to their chests. She was filled by a longing that had become far too familiar the last few months.

            Since Christmas she hadn’t been able to rid herself of the thought of having a baby. A life to share between herself and Margaery. It wasn’t the first time she had wanted it, but the desire was fleeting before. Now it returned every time she saw a baby in its mother’s arms or kids playing.

            It wasn’t difficult to imagine that the woman with long brown hair pushing her baby in a stroller was Margaery. Or the woman that was nearly her height rocking her child back and forth was herself.

            They had talked about children before. Margaery would agree vaguely before jumping to the next topic. Like it was a concept that was five or ten years down the road.

            After they returned to the hotel, Sansa was still thinking about babies. Margaery asked her if she was okay. Apparently, she was being quieter than usual. Sansa said she was fine and took a shower while Margaery packed away their clothes. When she came out, she let her damp hair air dry and put on a short night gown which she believed was actually Margaery’s.

            She came out determined to have a conversation with Margaery. Margaery had finished packing and to was sitting at the table, back turned to Sansa, with her laptop screen on. Sansa frowned as she skimmed through the email Margaery was reading. She snuck behind Margaery and hovered over her, holding herself up with both arms on the table over each of Margaery’s knees.

“We agreed no work on the honeymoon.”

“Sansa the next session starts in four days. I need to find out what other members of the senate want to push. And it’s not just a work email. Alla asked about the honeymoon too,” Margaery twisted her neck around to look at Sansa. She was wearing her prescription reading glasses. She started wearing them a year ago. They were certainly not the source of the inexplicable several wet dreams Sansa had had about Margaery as a professor.

“Tell your secretary the honeymoon was wonderful until she ruined it with work emails,” Sansa kissed Margaery’s cheek. “Then come to bed because I want to talk with you.”

Margaery grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. “Are you going to punish me?”

Sansa shook her head and kept a serious, level tone. “No. I just want to talk about something.”

Margaery tilted her head to the side, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Not wrong really.”

Margaery nodded with hesitance. “Give me thirty seconds and I’ll be done.”

Sansa nodded back and wandered back to the bedroom. She sat back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling. She wasn’t aware Margaery had come in until she sat on the edge of the bed next to her and tucked her hair behind her ear. Her other hand covered Sansa’s comfortingly.

“What’s the matter love?” Sansa scooted closer to the center of the bed to allow Margaery more space to sit.

“I don’t know how to approach the topic with you,” she admitted.

She looked up and found Margaery large eyes staring at her. The grip over her hand tightened just a little. “Sansa you can tell me. Have you been having problems sleeping again?”

“No. I haven’t had those problems in a while. And it’s not really a problem it’s…I saw some kids at the street festival today. They were running around and their mums were holding babies while they shopped around. I want that Marge. I want to have kids.”

Margaery looked at her for a moment then said, “Of course darling. One day.”

Sansa picked up Margaery’s hand and put it in her lap. “I don’t want one day. And I don’t necessarily mean today, but I think we’re at a point where we could handle a child.”

This time the silence continued beyond a moment. Margaery was no longer looking at her, but looking past her.

“It’s our honeymoon. Let’s not worry about that now. It can wait,” she tried to smile and brush it off.

Sansa didn’t bite. “It can’t wait. I want to talk about this now.”

Margaery sighed. “We haven’t even been married a week. We need to get settled in and adjusted before even considering that. There’s the financial burden to consider. Extra for us. It’s not like I can swing out a penis and impregnate you that way. Adoption could take years and invitro pregnancies take multiple attempts usually. I’m running for re-election next year and you just started your job at the publishing house. Have you even considered how Lady would react?”

She was reaching for reasons. Most disheartening was that she wouldn’t even look at Sansa. Her first instinct was pull her hand back. She didn’t.

“I only want to look into it, darling. See what our options are. And as far as our marriage is concerned, that piece of paper has existed for less than a week. This,” she pointed between herself and Margaery, “has been strong for four and a half years.”

She scooted closer to Margaery. Margaery looked down at their hands, then up at Sansa. Sansa slowly slid Margaery’s glasses off and put them to the side. “I love you Margaery. Nothing will change that. I want to have kids with you. To raise them with you.”

“You shouldn’t,” Margaery said barely above a whisper.

“Why?”

“I wouldn’t…I’m not mother material,” she again kept her gaze anywhere but on Sansa.

“You’d be a wonderful mother.”

“No _you’d_ be a wonderful mother. I’m not meant to be a mom. I don’t do well with kids. I don’t know how to take care of another person like that.”

Beyond that, Sansa could see the fear in her eyes.

“You’re wonderful with Jacobey,” Sansa offered.

Margaery got off the bed and paced around. “He’s 3 and I’ve never been around him for more than a few hours at a time, certainly not to be in charge of him. I wouldn’t know how to act with a baby or how to make it stop crying or…”

Sansa blocked off her path and gently grasped her arms. “Hey. Relax. We’re not becoming parents today. Or tomorrow. Or maybe even next year. You’d be a fantastic mum. You’re loving and fun and responsible. If you don’t want to have a child, then we can just drop it. You haven’t said that though. Neither of us is going to know a thing about parenting going into this. We’ll learn together. Whichever path we choose, it’ll be together. I want kids and I want them sooner rather than later. If you don’t want them, then we don’t have to have them. I'd rather have you happy with me than miserable with kids you never wanted. Where do you stand?”

 Margaery sat back down on edge of the bed. “I want a child. I’m scared.”

Sansa sat down next to her. She caressed Margaery’s cheek with her thumbs and gently pulled her in for a kiss. “We’ll work it out. I promise.”

She kissed the top of Margaery’s head. Inside, her heart was soaring. They were going to have a kid. It may be years from now, but they’d find a way to make it work.

Margaery sat up. “You succeeded in tensing the mood.”

“I did not,” Sansa grinned as she pulled herself backward on to the bed.

Margaery crawled after her. “Did too. The way you brought that up, I was afraid you were about to leave me because I left my underwear on the floor.”

“Thank you for reminding me. That’s an unforgiveable offense. You can expect divorce papers in your hands tomorrow,” Sansa covered her head to protect herself from the oncoming pillow attack from Margaery.

“You can’t divorce me. I’ll write it into law,” Margaery smiled.

“Please do,” Sansa lunged at her and pinned her to the bed before kissing her. She was beginning to think that marriage suited her.


	7. A Short Nap (Sansaery + Pregnancy)

Sansa's snores ring softly in Margaery's ear. They wake her up from the afternoon nap Sansa had insisted upon. She stretches, careful not to accidentally knock her. She looks back over her shoulder to check the time.

Sansa's tranquil when she sleeps. Mouth slightly ajar, she looks nothing like the hormonal monster wreaking havoc on their little world the last three months.

Margaery smiles thinking of the sudden mood swings Sansa has been going through. Her cravings for ice cream and spicy doritos mixed together. Her outburst at the cashier when they told her they didn't have change for a five. Her crying on Margaery's shoulder during the last scene of Florian and Jonquil: Highgarden Heroes. Her pulling Margaery into Rickon's room the last time they visited her parents because she really needed an orgasm right that second.

Margaery's hand slides down Sansa's front to her rounding belly, tracing the outline of Sansa's beginning stretch marks. Twins. Gods they were having twins. The thought of one child scared Margaery enough, but two?

Sansa's elation calmed her fears though. Sansa was born to be a mother. She loved taking care of people. She always pointed out cute kids clothing at the stores. This was what Sansa wanted. Margaery was just glad she could help provide it, even if not biologically.

She didn't realize Sansa's snores had ceased. "What are you thinking about?" she whispered.

Margaery looked up to see Sansa's amused eyes watching her. She stopped stroking her belly and tilted her chin to the side to kiss her.

"You were thinking about kissing me?"

Margaery giggles and shakes her head. "Your babies are going to be beautiful."

Sansa presses her hand against the top of Margaery's. "Our babies. I want you to say it."

Margaery kisses the back of Sansa's hand. "Our babies."


	8. Another First Time (Sansaery post-pregnancy)

The lamp light was on, but Sansa wasn’t in bed yet. She was likely still in the bathroom cleaning up.

Having just put Florian to bed to join his brother, Margaery stripped off her clothes and put the pile in the laundry basket. She smoothed out the ruffles of the bed sheet.

Tonight would be their first time since Sansa gave birth over two months ago. Even though Sansa never spoke of it, Margaery caught the way she occasionally looked at herself in the mirror. Somehow it was as though Sansa thought less of herself physically since the babies. This would be about Sansa. Showing her how much she loved her, how much she still desired her.

After a few minutes of waiting, Margaery became worried. She knocked on the bathroom door. “Sansa, darling, are you okay?”

“Yes honey, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a second.”

Margaery hesitated, then sat back on the bed and stared at the door.

A few minutes later, Sansa came out of the bathroom. Her robe was tied loosely around her. Margaery smirked when Sansa looked her up and down. She stretched out her legs and tightened her abdomen.

Sansa didn’t say anything. Margaery sat up properly which allowed Sansa to sit on her lap. Sansa straddled her, knees on either side and sat back on her legs.

Margaery tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’ve missed you. You’re astonishingly beautiful, love.”

She untied Sansa’s robe. It fell open a little, but not enough to show her breasts. Sansa put her arms around Margaery’s neck, and the robe opened a little more. Margaery looked down and saw the stretch marks still on Sansa’s stomach. Her arms felt stiff around her. Margaery rubbed her back and felt the tension there too.

She pressed her forehead against Sansa’s lips. “What’s wrong, Sansa?”

Sansa kissed her forehead. “I want you Marge. But it’s not going to be as good for you as it used to be.”

Margaery kissed Sansa’s neck. One hand made circles on Sansa’s rib cage while the other stroked her arm. “Says who?”

“I read some articles online,” Sansa’s breath was starting to shallow. Margaery licked the protruding muscle on her neck. “It-it said I might not be able to get as wet. And I know… I know how much you like that. And my tits feel so sensitive. It’s too much right now. You won’t be able to play with them like you usually do.”

Margaery stopped kissing her and looked at her face. Her eyes were shut.

“And there’s all this excess fat Marge. My body-”

Margaery kissed her lips. Sansa opened her eyes.

“I love you Sansa. Your body is magnificent. I don’t care if you put on a few pounds. It’s for our children. And if you decide that you don’t want to lose it, I’ll be fine with that too. As for the rest,” she kissed Sansa again, “just tell me if something doesn’t feel good, okay?”

Sansa nodded. She leaned in and kissed Margaery. The tension released from her muscles. Eventually she let Margaery slide the robe off her. Sansa’s fingers explored Margaery’s chest and stomach. Margaery did the same, careful not to touch Sansa’s breasts too much. Their kisses stayed slow, but sensual. Margaery let Sansa dictate the pace and gladly accepted her tongue when she pushed it between her lips.

She was disappointed when she felt Sansa shift out her lap. Sansa scooted to the middle of the bed and laid down on top of the covers. Her hair splayed neatly over the pillows. Margaery smirked and went after her. She crawled over her on all fours and started kissing her neck.

She squeaked when Sansa’s nail dug into her arse. When she pulled back Sansa was smirking. Sansa leaned up and kissed her lips, her hand massaging her arse cheek. Margaery groaned and pressed herself harder against Sansa. Unconsciously, her hand found its way to Sansa’s tit and began plucking at the nipple.

After a couple of pinches Sansa’s nails dug in again, this time painfully so. “Too much. Stop Margaery,” she whined.

Margaery immediately stopped and sat up. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

Sansa sat up too. “It’s okay. It was just some sensory overload.”

Margaery nodded.

She knew she was already soaking. She’d been wet just thinking about tonight. She felt bad for Sansa not being able to have sex after the babies, so she forwent her own needs as well. She wriggled her knee between Sansa’s thighs. She was a little wet but not nearly enough to try to start anything.

“Do you want to get the lube? That might help get it started,” Margaery suggested.

Sansa squeezed Margaery’s side. The idea of needing help obviously embarrassed her. Eventually she nodded. Margaery kissed her on the cheek and went to the bathroom. They rarely used lubricant except when Margaery wanted to be experimental in the bedroom. She grabbed the bottle under the sink. As she was about to close it, she noticed the little travel sized vibrator next to it. She picked that up too.

When she came back, Sansa was lying on her stomach on her side of the bed. The baby monitor was louder than before. Usually the static fell into the background and Margaery hardly noticed it. She came over and put the vibrator and lube on the night stand next to the monitor. Sansa rolled onto her back and sat up against the pillows. Margaery laid down next to her. She traced over Sansa’s thighs, slowly inching upward.

Sansa rolled onto her side. She lightly squeezed Margaery’s hip and kissed up her jaw line. “You said were getting lube.” Sansa’s voice grew huskier.

“I did,” Margaery breathed. She started tracing patterns on Sansa’s lower back, over her tattoo. Sansa scooted up and nipped at Margaery’s ear. Margaery couldn’t withhold a whimper.

“That little toy isn’t lube,” Sansa said. Her nails scraped over Margaery’s tit.

Margaery tried not to close her eyes. She wanted to see everything. “I thought you might like it. Spice things up.”

“I might like it or you would?” Sansa whispered. Her hand hovered over Margaery’s mound. “Or you would like to use it on me?”

A shudder shook through Margaery. Sansa gently pushed her shoulder back against the bed. She sucked at Margaery’s collar bone hard enough to leave a bruise, only to soothe it over with her tongue. One hand rested against Margaery’s side as the other worked itself between Margaery’s thighs. Margaery spread her legs wider to give Sansa more access.

“You’re wonderful Sansa. Lovely. Smart. Strong,” She wants Sansa to know how much she means to her. She’d prefer to show it physically, but how could she possibly deter her love’s ministrations now? “And brave. So brave. Balancing two babies, and work, and mmm that felt good Sans, and, ah, still looking sexy as, gods...”

Sansa slid down to her stomach, kissing a path. Her fingers became more insistent as Margaery spoke. Her legs straddled Margaery’s thigh. Testing Sansa’s sensitivity, Margaery pressed her leg up. Sansa groaned and responded by nudging her thumb against Margaery’s clit. Margaery tossed her head back and whined.

Her lips were pressed just below her navel when a shrill cry rang through the air from the static noise. Sansa jumped out of the bed and was out the door before Margaery could even comprehend what happened. Lady’s barks intermingled with the cries. On the other end she could hear Sansa rushing in, reassuring the babies that it was okay.

Margaery sighed and got out of the bed. She grabbed her robe from its hanger and wrapped it around herself. She picked up Sansa’s robe off the floor and walked out.

Sansa was holding both boys bouncing them softly. The motion seemed to be working with Florian, but not with Aedyn. Lady paced at Sansa’s feet, whining like she would have when her own pups were in trouble.

“Let me see Florian,” Margaery held out her arms.

Sansa handed her the calmer child and took the robe. Margaery carried him back to the crib. He stared back up at her and she smiled down. “Be mommy’s big, strong boy for one minute, Florian.” She handed him his rattle. He shook it with a contented smile.

Margaery turned back to Sansa. She was struggling to put on the robe while holding Aedyn.

Margaery took Aedyn from Sansa’s arms. He cried harder as Sansa pushed her arms through the robe. She sat in the rocking chair Sansa’s mother had given them as a baby shower gift. Her father had refurbished it after finding it among the things in Hoster Tully’s attic after he passed.

Margaery gave her the boy and kissed her forehead before returning to the crib.

Lady had calmed down and gone back to her pile of blankets beside the door. Florian’s diaper was a little wet, so Margaery changed it. Then she picked him up and rocked and bounced him back to sleep.  He  squeezed her finger tight until he was dreaming once more. “Sleep well my sweet knight,” she whispered as she laid him back in the crib. She removed her finger from his loose grasp.

Across the room, Aedyn was pressed to Sansa’s bare breast. So that was his hungry cry. Margaery had yet to distinguish what the different cries meant, but Sansa was already an expert. She was humming a lullaby, staring lovingly down at her son. Their son. It was hard to remember that sometimes.

Margaery walked behind the chair and lifted Sansa’s hair over her other shoulder.

“You can go back to bed. I shouldn’t be much longer,” Sansa murmured, still watching Aedyn.

Margaery’s stroked the little hairs on Aedyn’s head. “I can wait.”

Sansa looked up. She smiled and craned her neck upward. Margaery bent down and kissed her quickly.

Although the twins could feel tiring at times, moments like this made Margaery feel like the most blessed woman in Westeros.


	9. Bowl Me Over: (Sansaery + Theon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 6 months after the end of Double Date

The last time Theon had been bowling was… four years ago? It was for some freshman hazing experience when he tried to join a fraternity. He lasted all of two minutes blindfolded and having to dance away from bowling balls before punching the president in the face and walking away. He dropped out of college two months later.

He had no desire to return to a bowling alley until this afternoon when Sansa called with the most enticing proposal. She and Margaery were bowling with Daenerys and they needed another person so Dany didn’t feel like a third wheel.

“It’s not a date Theon, it’s just making new friends,” Sansa said, but the words flew right over his head.

He’d been aching to see Daenerys after Margaery had said she and her balloons-for-brains boyfriend were “on a break”. She didn’t go into detail after that, but Theon knew that was girl code for “he dumped her, what a dick.”

Maybe the night wouldn’t start out as a date, but it would surely end up as one.

“Size 12,” Theon tells the boy by the shoes. He gives him an ugly pair of brown bowling shoes. He looks for aisle 4, and sure enough there are the girls.

Sansa looks up from her shoes and waves. “Hey Theon.”

Daenerys looks up too. “Hi Theon. It’s good to see you again.”

Theon lifts his had as if to wave, but doesn’t. “Uh, yeah, hey Dany. It’s been a while yeah? How’s it going?”

Margaery rolls her eyes as she finishes tying her shoes.

“It’s going well. Mostly. And you?”

“Fine. I’m fine. The weather is fine too. Have you felt the weather lately?” Seven hells, he sounds like Robb.

“Yes, the weather is lovely.” Daenerys smiles. Theon blushes like Sansa would.

“Alright loser,” Margaery interrupts. “Get your shoes on. We’re doing teams.”

Theon pulls on his shoes. As he could have predicted, the teams are Sansa and Margaery, or team “Top my Bottom”, and he and Dany composed the second team.

“You don’t mind being on Team Dragonslayer, do you? I’ve gotten a kick out of playing that lately. It helps destress after work,” Dany says.

Theon nods excitedly. “I love Dragonslayer. I’m a level 45 Tamer.”

“Level 63 Bloodrider,” Dany counters. Before Theon can tease her for it, she says, “My boyfriend is a level 89 Rider.”

“Boyfriend?” Theon asks.

“Sorry. Not quite my boyfriend. But he’s not really my ex either. We’re complicated right now.”

“I get complicated,” Theon offers.

“Oh, I know. Margaery told me all about how things ended with Robb. I’m so sorry he left you for that woman. You were cute together.”

Theon saw Margaery wink at him as Sansa “taught” her the proper way to bowl.

He supposed he should be thankful. She could have told Dany how it actually ended. “It’s for the best. I think women may be more of my thing anyway.”

Sansa bowled the first frame for herself and Margaery. She picked up the ball and swung her arm back. With a flick of her wrist the ball spun down the lane, curving like a professional’s throw into the pins for a strike.

Sansa turned around, grinning wide and proud. Margaery threw her arms around Sansa’s neck and kissed her hard. “Expect more of that each time you knock them all down.”

“You go first,” Daenerys offered.

Theon picked up a ball. He swung his arm back and flung the ball down the lane. He knocked down all but three. The ball came back and he rolled again, knocking down all the pins.

“Good job!” Daenerys clapped.

Theon smiled and flexed his arm. “Not bad for not having bowled in years.”

Daenerys rolled her eyes. “Yes, so impressive.”

Margaery picked up the ball and tossed it right into the gutter. “Oops. I guess I’m just not good at bowling.”

“You’re not doing it right Marge. Here let me show you again.” Sansa came behind Margaery and pressed her fingers into the ball. “Stop on your left leg and let go of the ball…now.”

            Margaery stuck out her butt over dramatically and let go of the ball with a pop. It rolled down the lane and took out four pins.

            “That was good,” Sansa encouraged, even if she didn’t mean it.

            While Sansa and Margaery continued flirting, the conversation died down between Daenerys and Theon. They just had nothing in common. She liked politics and social justice and Theon couldn’t even tell her who was Renly’s vice president. She had three dogs, all of which looked frightening. But she was hot, so Theon ignored all of that.

            By the time they reached the last frame, Theon and Daenerys had a slight lead over Sansa and Margaery. Daenerys wasn’t a great bowler, but unlike Margaery, she hadn’t thrown nine gutter balls. At first, Theon thought Margaery had been faking it to get closer to Sansa, but now…she was the worst bowler he’d ever seen. Despite the lead, Theon knew it was better safe than sorry.

            “No helping on the last frame!” he said as he munched on a nacho.

            Margaery pouted. “But!”

            Sansa rubbed her shoulder. “Fair is fair Margaery. Winning isn’t everything.” The cringe she tried to hide was proof enough that she was lying to herself and them.

            Margaery sighed and picked up a bowling ball. She backed up, aligned her feet parallel to the pins and bowled flawlessly, knocking down every pin.

            Sansa gasped. Theon’s eyes bulged. He glanced to Daenerys, who sat calmly watching Margaery turn into a professional before their eyes.

            The machine replaced the pins and Margaery repeated her feat. Sansa screamed with joy at the same time Theon groaned in misery.

            “One more baby! You can do it!” Sansa shouted.

            Margaery picked up the ball, spun it in her hand and bowled. The pins knocked over with a loud clang. Sansa ran forward and tackled Margaery into the lane. “You did it! Oh my gods that was amazing!”

            Theon stomped over with his bucket of nachos tucked to his chest. “You cheated!” chips flew from his mouth.

            “Had you not interfered with my Sansa time, you could be the one sprawled on the floor of a bowling alley.” Margaery tutted.

            Theon spun to Danerys, who was casually checking out her nails. “Did you know about this?”

            “She bowled a perfect game at the company New Year’s party. Of course I knew she was faking it.”

            After Margaery and Sansa scattered off the floor, Daenerys picked up  the ball and flung it down the lane. It took out five pins. Her next throw took out two.

            Sansa jumped up and kissed Margaery hard. Watching them make out was becoming more and more uncomfortable.

            He turned to Dany. “Do you want to just go? I think they’ll be at it for awhile.”

            Dany nodded. “Please. I get enough of this on Chick Flick night.”

            He led her to his car and jiggled the door open for her. “It does this sometimes.”

            He slid over the hood to the otherside and hopped in. The truck started with a roar. “Where do you want to go? We could get some burgers or coffee or…”

            “Actually, can you take me home? I’m a bit tired.” Daenerys asked.

            Theon nodded, his heart deflating in his chest.

            He drove in silence for awhile until Daenerys said, “Sorry if tonight’s been a bit weird. I didn’t really want to do anything tonight, but you know Margaery. She said I needed to get out and forget about Drogo for a few hours.”

            “Were you able to? Forget about him, I mean.” Theon asked.

            “Yeah,. Kind of. I just miss him. He’s a good guy. Rough around the edges and sometimes he tries to act tougher than he is. I know he misses me too,” Daenerys went on about Drogo and with each word Theon saw his chances of being with her slip away. Perhaps it was for the best.

            He drove up to the outside of her house, feeling more angry with himself than anything else. Of course a girl as cool as Daenerys Targaryen wouldn’t be interested in him.

            “Thanks for listening Theon,” she said, bringing him out of his inner monologue that started two miles ago. “You’re a good friend.”

            “Yeah. I’ve been told,” he muttered.

            She didn’t seem to notice though. Theon looked out his window. The big, muscular beast of a man called Drogo stood on her door step. Daenerys ran out of the car without another glance at Theon.

            “Drogo??” she yelled as she ran.

            The beast opened his arms to catch her. “Dany. Moon of my life.”

            Theon drove off before he could hear the rest. He wanted to punch something. Or someone. Why was this always happening? Why wasn’t he ever good enough for a girl? He thought about the advice Robb had given him last time a girl had ditched him like this. “Don’t be alone with your thoughts, mate. They’re a scary place.”

            Of course, Robb wasn’t here. He was in Winterfell, panicking about how he would tell Ned that he had gotten a girl pregnant and would be a father in six months.

            He found himself near Sansa’s apartment complex. Hoping she was already back, Theon ran up the stairs and knocked on the door. Sansa opened the door. “Theon? What are you doing here?”

            “Dany got back with her old boyfriend,” Theon muttered.

            Sansa opened the door wider, her face growing long to match his own dreary look. “Come on in.”

            He moped to the couch. Margaery held Lady down, for which Theon was grateful. “I’m sorry Theon. I didn’t imagine that would happen.”

            Theon turned his head. Rather than her typical smirk, Margaery stared at him earnestly.

            “It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

            Sansa plopped down on the other side of him. She gave him a pint of Glover’s Finest Ice Cream, chocolate chip flavored. “Well you shouldn’t. You’re awesome Theon, and you need a girl who’s just as awesome.”

            “But Dany was awesome,” Theon groaned. He dug into his ice cream.

            “Between us, Dany isn’t that awesome,” Margaery leaned in close, whispering like it was some secret. “An awesome girl wouldn’t sneak dog treats from work in her purse.”

            Sansa laughed hollowly. “Yeah, haha. What a loser.”

            Theon raised his brow.

            Sansa looked away, blushing furiously. “Uhm. Maybe Danerys is awesome. Like me. You know, we’re both super cool and…stuff.”

            “Darling, when I’m trying to make a joke, just sit there and look pretty,” Margaery shakes her head. “Anyway Theon, the point is, just because Daenerys isn’t right for you doesn’t mean an equally awesome woman isn’t out there. You just have to find her.”

            Sansa patted his shoulder. “Yeah. If Rickon can learn how to pee in a toilet, you can find a girl who is wooed by your Theonness.”

            Theon swallowed his ice cream and put his arms around Margaery and Sansa. “Thanks girls. You two are the best.”

            “But I’m better right?” Sansa asked.

Margaery threw a pillow in her face. By the end of the night, Theon had forgotten about Daenerys Targaryen.

           


	10. Conflicting Advice (Sansaery + Olenna and Sansaery + Catelyn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the girls need to keep it in their pants and Sansa doesn't know who to listen to.

“We shouldn’t, Marge,” Sansa murmurs, but it becomes harder to reason why it’s such a bad idea when Margaery kisses that spot right behind her ear.

“I think we should. I think you think so too,” Margaery’s fingers trace along her jaw, up her chin, down her throat, to her breast. Her hand slides into Sansa’s bra and squeezes before pulling out to lift Sansa’s shirt over her head.

“But your grandmother-”

“Is sleeping. And she’s practically comatose when she sleeps,” Margaery punctuates her sentiments with a kiss. And then another. Her tongue probes Sansa’s mouth as she feels over Sansa’s body, pushing her onto the bed.

She draws back and smirks. She unbuttons Sansa’s pants and slides them down her legs, followed by her underwear. “Isn’t this nice? No dogs, no people. Just us.”

Sansa can’t help but agree as Margaery peppers her chest in kisses. It’s been a month since Robb’s little crush, and yet every time they’ve tried to be intimate in Sansa’s apartment, someone or something gets in the way. It’s been driving both of them crazy.

Margaery makes her way down to the place where Sansa wants her most.

“Only scream if you really need to, sweet girl,” Margaery smirks before going down. In moments Sansa is writhing and moaning embarrassingly loud.

Suddenly there are two loud bangs on the door, which startle Sansa into sitting up, pulling the sheet over herself.

Margaery wraps herself in a robe and cracks the door open. “Something wrong grandmother?”

“Yes. Your room seems to have an obnoxiously loud and horny ghost. Tell her to shut up before I call a priest to exorcise her from the premises.”

Sansa gulps mortified. She ducks her head into the pillows as Margaery comes back. “Gods, that’s embarrassing.”

Margaery shrugs. “I’ve had worse. There was the time she encouraged me to go faster because her soap started in three minutes. And there’s the time she gave Leonette advice on giving head after mother found out she spent the night with Gar.”

Sansa groans.

“That’s it. I’m dialing the High Sparrow,” Olenna yells.

***************************************************************

            Growing up, all Margaery knew of the North was that it was cold. Her Grandmother only ever bemoaned the harsh winters. Her father and mother had never been north of King’s Landing. Surely there was more to the North than snow, right?

            No. Shivering beneath the wool blanket, still slightly wet from her fall in the snow, all Margaery can think of is that her family was right. The North is cold.

            Fortunately, the fireplace in Sansa’s room was roaring. Ned made sure to stock it with fresh logs this morning.

            Sansa knocked on the door. “Hey. Mum just put your clothes in the dryer.”

            “Th-Thank you,” Margaery stuttered.

            Sansa sat next to her and took her hand. “Geez, you’re still freezing.” She unwrapped Margaery from her blanket.

The burst of air against her bare arms and legs somehow made her colder. “Wh-What are you d-doing?”

            Sansa entangled herself around Margaery. With Margaery tucked against her chest and their legs twined together, Sansa wrapped the blanket over them. Under the blanket, she held Margaery close against her. “Body heat is the best way to warm up.”

            “Y-you remembered?” Margaery asked.

            Sansa laughed and pulled Margaery closer. “Of course I remembered.”

            “It was because of me wasn’t it?” She can feel Margaery smiling against her neck.

            “Yes. It had nothing to do with the 18 years I spent living in the frozen tundra, but because you mentioned it while we were sleeping in on a Sunday morning,.”

            “I knew it!” Margaery squeezed her back.

            Sansa rubbed her hands against Margaery’s cotton tank top, skimming the top of her bra. “You’re not shivering anymore,” she said after a few moments.

            “But my lips are still cold,” Margaery murmured. She wriggled up to face Sansa and kissed her. Her lips were a little cold.

            “Well they just need a little body heat too,” Sansa kissed her leisurely. She smiled as Margaery moans.

            “Think you can stay warm for five seconds if I get up?” Sansa asked when they broke away.

            “I don’t know,” Margaery scooted away to give Sansa room to get up.

            She shimmied across the floor and shuts the door. She pulled her sweater over her head and pulled down her pants. In only the light from the fireplace, she knew what Margaery would say she looked like. Of course, that was only if she would stop biting her lip in that knowing way. She crawled back into bed and snuggled under the blanket.

            “That was more than five seconds,” Margaery positioned herself underneath Sansa.

            “Sorry. Do you want me to make it up to you?” Sansa purred as she lifted Margaery tank top up. Margaery lifted her shoulder off the bed and let Sansa throw it over the side. She’d taken off her bra with the rest of her wet clothes earlier.

            Betraying just how cold she felt, Margaery’s nipples stood at full attention. They taunted Sansa. So Sansa taunted them back. She cupped Margaery’s boobs, massaging and squeezing, but careful not to touch her nipple. Margaery groaned beneath her.

            “Quiet, my love. There are children here,” Sansa tutted. Despite herself, Olenna’s advice about noise with company present had stuck with her these past six months.

            Margaery pushed Sansa’s underwear down her thighs, shifting the blanket to expose her rear to the air. Sansa didn’t care. All she cared about are the small peaks she intended lavish and tease all night long. She takes one in to her mouth as she pinches the other between her fingers. Margaery squirmed beneath her, but stayed silent. She licked and sucked, then switched to the other breast. All the while, Margaery writhed beneath her.

            Satisfied with her work, Sansa got on all fours and crawled forward. Arms wrapped around her neck tugged her neck down for a searing kiss.

            Everything after that happened as if out of time. There was a soft knock on the door, barely loud enough for Sansa to hear. Without further warning the door opened.

            “Sansa, I finished the hot- Mother Crone!” Catelyn shrieked.

            Sansa jumped  and whirled around, forgetting her state of undress and that she was on a bed. She lost her balance and fell off, landing hard on the wooden floor.

            Catelyn stood in shock of her daughter’s…boldness. Her sweet, innocent little girl was doing… what exactly?

            Sansa grabbed a pillow from the bed to cover herself., just in time for Lady to sneak through her mother’s legs. She licked Sansa’s face mercilessly.

            “Mum! Can you shut the door?!” Sansa yelled.

            Catelyn snapped out of her daze and finally gave the girls some privacy. She fled back downstairs to the hot chocolate she was about to offer the girls. She poured herself a mug and spiked it with a little rum. Of all her children, she least expected to walk in on Sansa.

            Halfway through the mug, the girls came to the kitchen. Margaery waved. “Hi Mrs. Stark. What was it that you wanted of us?”

            Her fingers gripped Sansa’s arm, clearly dragging her through the situation she wanted to run from.

            “Oh, it was nothing, just go back to your…warming,” Catelyn sipped her cocoa.

            “I must try the infamous Catelyn’s Cocoa first. How about you and Sansa chat while I make myself some,” Margaery pushed Sansa into the chair before going to the stove.

            “Uh, Mum. Sorry about, what you saw. I tried to keep it quiet,” Sansa muttered, avoiding eye contact.

            “Quiet?” Catelyn asked, confused. “Sansa this is a house full of people with noise all the time. I’m more afraid of what’s going on when there’s no sound than when there’s noise. So please for the love of the gods, don’t stay quiet for our benefit.”

            Sansa’s head shot up. “B-b-b-b-but…I don’t want everyone hearing us!”

            “Would you rather them watch you? A moan here and there keeps the eavesdroppers away. There’s a reason your father and I have never been walked in on. I don’t care if you’re having sex while you’re here, but please, please don’t let everyone see it.”

            By the stove, Margaery fought to contain her giggles. Catelyn’s advice left Sansa more confused than ever.


	11. The Birth

Margaery shoved down the top of her suitcase and took it off the bed. If Sansa wasn’t the size of a mini-van, she’d have rolled over onto her stomach to show her disdain. Instead, she settled for glares.

            “Don’t look at me like that, sweetling. It’s only a few days,” Margaery sighed. She laid down on her side so she could look Sansa straight in the eye.

            “I could explode within the next few days. Literally, Margaery, I don’t think I can grow any bigger!” Sansa whined.

            Margaery chuckled. “You’re not going to explode. At the most you’ll be alone for a few hours until Robb arrives with Bran and Rickon. And I’ll call you every night. Your mum will be here at the end of the week. You’ll hardly need me by the time I come back.”

            “That’s not true. There are some things you can do that they can’t,” Sansa reached her hand to touch Margaery’s cheek.

            “And what’s that? Be your body pillow?”

            “No, I have Lady for that,” Margaery pushed herself laterally and kisses Sansa softly. “I’m nine months pregnant. What if the babies come before the conference is over?”

            Margaery took Sansa’s hand off her cheek and squeezed it within her clasped hands. “That’s not going to happen, Sans. You’re 38 weeks. Doctor  Luwin said they shouldn't come until you’re at 40. If it were to happen, you know I’d go through all seven hells to make it back. Don’t stress yourself about hypotheticals, okay?”

            Sansa nodded. Margaery kissed her cheek and got up. She handed Sansa a pillow to place under hips. As Sansa adjusted the pillow, she turned off the light and stripped off her pants. She spooned Sansa, resting her arm over her belly. “Goodnight, love.”

 

 

 

She didn’t remember her mother ever being this big when she was pregnant. Granted, her mum never had twins.

          Sansa sat in the rocking chair in the nursery, looking over the list of names. The doctors had said it would be a boy and a girl. The proclamation had fueled Sansa’s naming spree. Despite Margaery’s protests, she knew Florian and Jonquil would be the perfect names for them. If she was carrying them for nine months, they were taking whichever names she deemed appropriate.

            Somehow knowing Margaery was hundreds of miles away from her right now made this more difficult than any other work day. The Foreign Affairs Conference at Harrenhal was one of the most prestigious political conferences in the world and for Margaery to be invited to speak was a major accomplishment. Had the doctors given her permission, Sansa would have gladly gone with her. Sadly, they said it was “unsafe for a woman eight months pregnant to fly.”

            There was a knock at the door, which meant Robb must have arrived. Sansa pushed herself out of the chair and waddled to the door. Lady paced back and forth until Sansa got there. She unlocked it and opened it.

            “Wow! You look like a mini-van!” wasn’t the first words she wanted to hear from her brothers. Rickon didn’t seem to realize how insulting what he said was, wearing a wide grin on his face, bags toted in his arms.

            Fortunately Bran did. He whacked Rickon on the back of the head. Robb did the same to Bran.

            “Ow! What was that for?” Bran whined.

            “Mum would do the same if she saw you hitting your brother.” Sansa chose not to point out the hypocrisy in that statement and gave her little brothers one armed hugs.

            “Come on in. Sorry for the mess. Marge and I haven’t had much time to clean lately,” not with Margaery stressing about finding another job. They had agreed that once her term ran out in five months, she would step out of public office and take on a political consulting job. Right now, Margaery was in the midst of finding clients and marketing her business while still handling the needs of her constituents and preparing for the baby. It was a lot to ask at once.

            The boys carried their bags in and dropped them in the middle of the floor as if they were at home.

            “This isn’t your home you lazy ninnies. And Sansa isn’t mum. Get your stuff to the back before I call dad,” Robb threatened.

            Rickon grumbled as he took his stuff, Bran following him silently. Robb turned his attention to Sansa. She slowly lowered herself to the couch, careful not bend over too much. Her back had been killing her the last couple weeks. Another reason she missed Margaery already: she gave the best shoulder massages.

            “How you feeling?” Robb smiled.

            “Good. I mean, I have a ton of cravings, and my back is aching and my boobs are tender, I have the constant need to pee all the time, the twins keep kicking my ribs like they’re soccer balls, and I miss my wife like crazy, but other than that, it’s actually not so bad anymore.” Sansa said as Lady brushed past her knees.

            “Sounds like you’re on the right track.” He would know, as the expert father of two.

            Robb’s little girl was six months old and absolutely precious. Tomorrow, Robb would go home to them. He’d come back after the twins were born, but he wanted to spend as much time as he could with his family now. Sansa didn’t blame him. 

            Rickon and Bran returned to the living room. Bran took the chair and Rickon sat on the floor and started playing tug of war with Lady. “The nursery turned out well, Sansa,” Bran commented.

            Sansa smiled at him. “Thank you. Loras and Stannis spent an entire afternoon helping Margie paint it.”

            “You got that sack of disillusionment to cooperate with the pretty boy? Amazing!” Rickon tugged the toy from Lady’s grasp.

            “You’ve been skyping far too much with Arya lately,” Sansa rolled her eyes. She ignored the slight discomfort in her stomach and readjusted her position.       

            A sharp pain riveted through her abdomen. Holding her stomach, she doubled over. She took quick shallow breaths to get through the pain. Robb was at her side at an instant.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “It’s…it’s nothing. I’m fine,” she said. It was true enough. The pain faded away after thirty seconds, releasing the tension low in her abdomen. She’s fine. The babies are fine. No need to worry.

            “You sure Sansa? That looked kind of intense,” Bran voiced their collective concern.

            Sansa nodded. “Absolutely.”

 

 

 

            “Sansa, I think we need to at least call a doctor,” Robb said.

            Sansa gritted through the pain of another contraction. “No. It’s just Braxton Hicks.”

            “They’re getting closer. What is it? Twenty minutes apart now? And according to google, increased lower back pain is a sign the baby could be coming. Going to a doctor can’t hurt.” Bran shrugged.

            “It’s not necessary! I’m not due for another three weeks!” Sansa cried. They couldn’t be coming! Not before her due date. Not before her mum came or before Loras picked up Olenna! Not before Margaery got back!

            “While you guys argue, I’m just going to start packing the car,” Rickon went back to Sansa’s room and grabbed the bag labeled, “hospital bag” and took it outside. She and Margaery had packed the necessities weeks ago as a precaution for any emergencies.

            Lady whined and paced around the middle of the floor. That was enough for Robb. “Alrigth Sans. Either you’re letting me drive you, or I’m calling an ambulance. Your choice.”

            Close to tears, Sansa relented and followed Robb out of the house. Bran locked up. Rickon was happily sitting in the passenger’s seat. Robb opened the door. “Get out.”

            “But I called shotgun!” Rickon unbuckled his seatbelt and clamored over the cupholders to the backseat.

            “Not now Rickon. There Sans.” He helped her get in the seat. Bran got in the back seat. “Bran call Margaery.”

            “Don’t you dare! She’s in the middle of her talk right now!” Sansa yelled.

            He panicked. If Sansa was in labor and Margaery found out that he didn’t call, she’d probably kill him when she got back. On the other hand, Sansa might kill him right now if he did try to call.

            And then Sansa yelped. “Shit!”

            “What?” Robb stopped with the key in the ignition.

            “I think my water broke!” Sansa yelled.

            That made up Bran’s mind for him.

           

 

            She was going to miss the thrill of her peers’ admiration. They loved her presentation, her ideas. It was a shame that she wouldn’t be the one who had the privilege to implement them. Instead, some thieving, hawking politician trying to get a leg up would no doubt twist her ideas just enough to make it look as though they were the mastermind.

            No, that wasn’t the perspective she should take. Her success implementing education reform in King’s Landing was its own reward, and seeing it come to life in the other six kingdoms was a huge step forward for reducing poverty long term.

            Margaery drank some water. Next on her itinerary was Daenerys’s lecture on the necessity of religious freedom in the wake of targeted attacks toward the followers of Rh’llor. She gathered her notes and was about to put them away when someone tapped her shoulder.

            Margaery turned around to find Gwynne, her intern for the semester, holding out a phone. “Mrs. Stark-Tyrell, there’s a man on the line who says he’s your wife’s brother and needs to talk to you urgently.”

            “Why wouldn’t he have called me then?” Margaery asked.

            “He said he did. Your phone was on silent, remember?” the girl said politely.

            Margaery cursed and took the phone. “Hello?”

            Chaos answered her. There was some sort of groaning sound muffled in the background, another muffled voice saying something, and the clearer voice of Robb Stark yelling “Rickon that is not helping!”.

            “Margaery? This is Bran,” says Bran.

            “Bran? What’s going on? Did you guys get in okay?”

            “We did, we did. But, uh, well things aren’t going quite as planned... Oh, okay then.” Bran’s voice sounded as though he was getting farther away. Then Sansa cried. “Margaery they’re coming!”

            “Sansa what’s going on? Who’s coming?” Margaery asked feeling totally confused.

            “The babies, Marge! The twins! My water broke, Ah!” she grunted.

            Margaery’s eyes popped. This wasn’t supposed to happen for two weeks! They weren’t ready! She wasn’t ready!

            “Margaery you said you’d be here! You promised!” Sansa was close to tears if she wasn’t already in them.

            “Okay, it’s okay Sans. I’ll be there. I’m going to leave right now okay. I love you. I’m going to get there before they come. Let me talk to Robb, okay?”

            “Okay. Hurry Marge,” Sansa said.

            She could hear the phone being passed and settled between Robb’s shoulder. “Margaery, I can’t drive and talk.”

            “Then shut up and let me talk,” she barked, letting loose some stress. “I’m getting on the next flight out of here,” she gave her intern a look and the girl pulled out her phone to check the next flight. “Have one of the boys call ahead for Doctor Luwin. He’ll have a room set and everything. Listen, I need you to stay with her. No matter what. If I don’t make it in time, I need you to go with her in the OR.”

            “Margaery-” She could hear a refusal on his tongue.

            “Don’t you dare Robb Stark. She needs someone with her. You’ve done this before. Please.”

            “Okay, okay. Anything else?”

            “One more thing. Where’s Theon?”

           

 

            Robb ushered Sansa up to the front desk. “Hi, we’ve got a, uhm, a birth currently happening. Dr. Luwin said he’d have a room prepared when we arrived.”

            The nurse peered at him over her glasses. “Stark-Tyrell?”

            Sansa nodded. “I’m Sansa.”

            The nurse nodded. She tapped her fellow nurse on his back. “Korey, take them to 205 in the maternity wing.”

            Korey, a tall thin stick of a man with a black mustache, rolled out a wheel chair and gestured for Sansa to sit. Robb followed behind, texting Bran and Rickon where they were going.

            The exam room was set up. The nurse helped Sansa into a comfortable position. Dr. Luwin came in with a clipboard in hand just as the nurse left. “Hello, Sansa. Is the other Mrs. Stark-Tyrell outside? I didn’t see her.”

            “No, but she’s on her way.” Sansa said with determination.

            “Well then, let’s see just how far along you are.” The doctor started taking her vitals. He had to be near seventy, but mother had bragged about what an excellent doctor he was to the point that Sansa and Margaery were nearly guilted into calling him to handle the birth.

Knowing what was coming and not wanting to face an uncomfortable situation with his sister’s pants down, Robb excused himself. “I’ll wait out for Rickon and Bran. Flag them down.”

Sansa nodded as Robb stepped out.

Rickon jogged down the hall. “Mum is pissed. Said this was supposed to be the birth she actually made it to. Dad calmed her down for now. She’s trying to move her flight up to be here tomorrow. Why are you out here?”

“The doctor is examining her,” Robb muttered.

Rickon reached for the door. Robb slapped down his hand. “What are you doing?!”

“The doctors just look at her belly right? No biggy,” Rickon reached for the knob again. Once again, Robb slapped down his hand.

“Ow! You know, that really hurts.”

“It’s not just her belly doofus. It’s her…” he waved his arms around as though that would clarify things. “…you know her…her lady bits.”

“Ooooohhhhhhh.” Rickon’s eyebrows raised with understanding.

Bran came up. “Car’s parked. Theon’s on his way to the airport.”

Robb ruffled his hand through his hair and muttered to himself, “It’ll work out. It’ll be fine. I am too tired for this.”

Dr. Luwin poked his head out the door. “You may come back in now. Oh, who are these young men?”

Bran stuck out his hand. “I’m Bran, Sansa’s younger brother. And this is Rickon, Sansa’s other younger brother.”

“I’m the cool brother,” Rickon shook Dr. Luwin’s hand.

“I didn’t realize Mrs. Stark-Ttyrell had such a large family. I thought it was just Mr. Stark here.” Dr. Luwin walked them back to the room.

“Wait until you meet Arya. She’s like a brother, but not quite,” Rickon said.

“Aw, crap. Bran did you call Arya?” How had he forgotten about her? She was the closest of anyone.

“I texted her. She’s with Gendry. She wants you to call her when I’m quote ‘popping out the little buggers.’” Sansa said.

Dr. Luwin took out a bottle of the strange gel they used for ultrasounds. He squeezed it on Sansa’s exposed stomach. The image of two fully formed babies in Sansa’s womb appeared on the screen beside the doctor. “Heh. They’re jostling for position. You’re coming along wonderfully, Sansa. I’d say in four to six hours, you’ll be ready to push.”

Robb came to Sansa’s side as she tried to sit up more. “But Margaery…”

“She’ll make it Sans. Her flight already took off. And we’ll be right here.” Robb assured her, squeezing her shoulder.

His face dropped in dismay when he saw Rickon playing with the doctor’s gloves. “You have me and Bran.”

 

 

Another crowd of people burst into the airport lobby. Theon poked his head around, trying to spot Margaery. She wasn’t with them. He sighed, put his earphones back in and went back to scrolling through his phone. He’d been at the airport for at least thirty minutes. He had to call out of work to get to the airport to pick up Margaery. Sansa was lucky she was giving birth, otherwise he wouldn’t be doing this.

A pair of loud heels clacked and came upon him quickly. Before he could look up, a hand snatched his ear, pulling him up and over and jarring loose his earphones.

“Ow! Ow! Seven hells, stop it!” he yelled.

The hand let go. Theon rubbed his ear and straightened up, ready to curse out the nutcase.

“I’ve been waving at you for five minutes, calling your name you ass,” Margaery huffed. She’s wearing a blazer and her hair is in a tight bun. She must not have changed before getting on the plane.

Come to think of it, Theon had never seen Margaery in her work attire before, not for her job as a senator at least. How strange.

“Are you gonna stand there and ogle me or are you going to take me to your car?” Margaery snapped.

“Car. We’re going to the car,” Theon led the way to his car.

            Margaery a briefcase in the back and sidled into the passenger seat.

            “You don’t have any more things?” Theon asked.

            “My assistant is handling it,” Margaery pulled out her phone.

            “Does she get you coff-” Theon asked. Margaery shushed him as the phone rang.

            “Hey Bran, are you with Sansa?....Good let me talk to her… Hi Sweetling…Yeah, I know, I know, but my flight just landed. Theon’s taking me to the hospital _right now_.”

            Theon took the message and pulled out of the parking garage.

            “That’s good… I’m going to let you go now okay. Listen to Robb and Doctor Luwin. I love you and I’ll be there as soon as I can…buh-bye.”

            She slumped in her chair from exhaustion.

            Theon drove in silence down the highway for thirty minutes. Margaery called her grandmother, whom Theon still feared. He hadn’t seen the woman in three years, but based on the way her admonishments screamed through Margaery’s phone, she hadn’t missed a step in her old age. Margaery told her grandmother to call Loras if she wanted to come early and hung up without saying goodbye. He could imagine the old woman fuming at that, but he didn’t blame Margaery. He’d never seen her so frazzled.

            Cars began pulling into the lane for the Blackwater Bridge exit. Theon sped up, thankful they were clearing the way for him.

            “Pull off here,” Margaery told him.

            “It’s faster this way. Besides, traffic is clearing,” he sped up to 70.

            “Why do you think that is? There’s probably an accident, just take this exit and I can get us there!” Margaery snapped.

            He shook his head and turned moved to the next passing lane and passing the exit. Immediately traffic began slowing. Slowing...to a stop…

            Margaery sat back and clenched a fist.

            “Well…at least it’s…” he tried to think of something positive.

            “Shut. Up.” Margaery looked murderous when she narrowed her big brown eyes.

            Theon gulped and just focused on driving, inching forward a few feet every few minutes.

           

 

            Robb wished Sansa hadn’t refused the epidural. She screamed and squeezed so hard he heard a knuckle pop in Rickon’s hand. Robb flexed his hand. It still hadn’t recovered from his tour of duty as Sansa’s stress ball.

            “Sans that frickin’ hurts! My hand isn’t made of rubber,” Rickon grunts.

            “You want to talk about pain! Push two bowling balls through your testicles and then tell me about pain!” Sansa seethed.

            Robb pulled Rickon away. “Be useful and get me a chocolate bar.”

            Rickon gladly left for the vending machine. Robb took his spot beside Sansa.

            “Where is she Robb? Her plane landed an hour ago,” Sansa whined. Her contractions were coming at eight-minute intervals.

            “They’re on their way. There might be traffic,” is all he can come up with.

            “You know Sansa, mum said that when I was born, mum said she was in labor for 14 hours.” Bran clearly meant for this to be a comfort, but it was anything but. They had already been at it for six hours. Having been through two births himself, Robb had been prepared for what was to come, unlike Bran and Rickon.

            Wearing a smile, Dr. Luwin waltzed in with his clipboard. “How are you feeling Mrs. Stark-Tyrell?”

            “Are you really asking me that?!” Sansa screamed. She balled up her sheet, trying to hold on to any semblance of propriety and not throw her cup of ice chips at the elderly doctor.

            The doctor chuckled. “Exactly as I expected. Let’s check your progress.”

            Bran, who had been in the back corner quietly texting his friend Jojen, excused himself from the room. Being at an angle that still protected Sansa’s modesty, Robb stayed by her side. The doctor sat between Sansa’s spread legs and looked. “Eight centimeters. You should be ready to push within the hour. You should feel lucky, Sansa. Most first pregnancies don’t go this smoothly.”

            He left to check on his other patients. Robb pulled out his phone to ask where the hell they were. As he pressed the call button, Sansa screamed. His hand took the brunt of the effects.

 

 

            “I drive this route every damn day! No one knows the pattern of traffic on this highway better than me! So doesn’t it make sense that you would listen to the woman who knows what the fuck she’s doing rather than your own moronic, Greyjoy brain based instincts? The same instincts that led to you meeting your own sister for a date on an online app? Oh no! You’re Theon fucking Greyjoy who has the biggest cock on the block. Fully fitted with a brain the size of a pea. A marvel to behold.”

            Theon tuned the rant out twenty minutes ago. It was a special talent of his.

            Traffic had barely moved during that time. He did manage to get to the lane for the next exit, but it was still half a mile away.

            Margaery’s ringing phone cut her off. She answered and immediately pulled the phone back from her ear. There was high pitched screaming on the other side that even he could hear.

             “Robb? What’s going on?” Margaery lurched forward. Her eyes widened with worry, a frown settling on her lips.

            The screaming stopped. Traffic inched forward, so Theon put the car back in drive and joined the movement.

            Margaery sighed, her head in her hands. “Tell her not to worry. No, I’ll be there in ten minutes. Bye.”

            Margaery hung up. Theon tilted his head. There were only three miles between them and the hospital, but traffic wasn’t clearing any time soon. Margaery ran her hand through her brown ringlets that were free from their bun.

            “Move over,” she told him. She unbuckled her seat belt and got on her knees.

            “No. It’s finally starting to go,” at a snails pace, but they were still going.

            “Fine, don’t move. Make it more difficult for both of us.”

            “What?” he asked as Margaery swung her leg over the median. She grabbed the steering wheel and turned it so the wheels angled to the grass on their right.

            “Margaery what are you-”

            She floored the gas, heading into the null. She sped them down the shoulder. The car jumped and rocked over the rough path. They made it to the exit ramp and up, still riding the shoulder. At the turn, Margaery waited for a gap in the traffic and once more floored the gas.

            Theon was too terrified to argue anymore. He couldn’t move either. He just prayed Margaery was a better driver than the Starks.

            She weaved in and out of traffic. A sharp turn at the Red Keep followed by an immediate left at the Storage center parking lot, which she cut through, and somehow they made it to the Kings Landing Medical Center.

            She stopped the car at the curb in front of the main entrance, leaping out without a word and slamming the door, narrowly missing Theon’s hand.

           

    _Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in._ It was too fast. Too erratic. She couldn’t calm down, which was bad for the twins. She had to calm down.

            “She’ll be here any minute Sansa. That’s good. Breathe out a little slower,” Robb said.

            She tried to breathe slower. More doctors were coming in, telling her they needed to move her to the O.R.

            “Will any of you be going with her?” they asked her brothers.

            Rickon and Bran shook their heads fervently. She wouldn’t want to be there either if it wasn’t her having the babies.

            “My wife is coming. She’ll be here any minute,” Sansa panted. She could feel the next contraction preparing.

            “Sansa, we have to get you to the O.R. now. We don’t have time to wait any more,” Dr. Luwin said.

            Sansa turned to Robb, pleading for help.

            “I’m going with her,” he said.

            The next contraction clenched her uterus. She cried out. When she came back to, she was being rolled down the hallway. Margaery wasn’t going to make it. She started to cry.

            “Sansa!” a voice yelled.

            Sansa’s eyes popped wide. “Margaery!” she yelled back.

            Robb let go of her hand and slid to the side in time for Margaery to run up, heels echoing down the hall. She was gasping for air and her hair was a mess, but she was smiling like the happiest woman in Westeros.

            She took Sansa’s hand and squeezed. “I made it. I told you I’d make it.”

            Sansa squeezed back and watched Robb grow smaller and smaller until the double doors of the O.R. closer behind them.

 

 

            “This is so boring. I thought you said she was having the babies,” Arya groaned, her head laying on Gendry’s lap.

            Robb glowered at him. Seven years on and off and the boy was yet to pop the question. Call him old fashioned, or even his father’s son, but a man who hadn’t asked the question yet couldn’t be planning to ask the question at all.

            Theon came back and sat beside him. “Guess who just got the nurse’s number?”

            "Congrats. It only took you two hours of staring at her,” Robb grumbled.

            “It’s called the art of wooing. Speaking of which, how are things with Myrcella, Bran,” Theon asked.

            Bran shrugged. “Fine I guess.”

            “I always pegged you to end up with Meera, you know. At least I got the older woman part right,” Theon ginned cheekily.

            “He’s got time,” Arya said. “Doesn’t mean he’ll be with Cella.”

            “Yeah. Arya’s got plenty of time to end up with Hot Pie as well,” Rickon added.

            Arya scrunched mouth and threw one of the magazines at Rickon’s head, hitting him in the face. Gendry laughed at all of it. “Hot Pie still believes that too.”

            The Starks and friends laughed at each other, completely oblivious to the woman in a hospital apron and nurses shoes that came out. Bran was the first to notice her.

            “Margaery, how did it go? How’s Sansa?” Bran asked.

            Arya sat up. Robb and Theon stood as Margaery approached them. Her watery smile told them everything was okay.

            “She’s great. She’s recovering with the boys.”

            “Boys? Twin boys?” Robb asked.

            “No, moron. Sansa adopted the crew of doctors poking her nether regions,” Arya got up to join the crowd.

            Margaery was too excited to care. “Twin boys,” she threw her arms around Robb’s shoulders. “Thank you. Without you…I don’t want to think about what we would have done without you.”

            Robb smiled. “Of course. I’m always there for my family. You’re like a sister, Marge. And Sansa is my sister.”

            “Robb finally figured out biology,” Theon smirked.

            Arya folded her arms over her chest as Margaery pulled out of the hug. “That insult falls flat for a man who didn’t know where the uvula is.”

            Theon glared at her. He wasn’t expecting Margaery’s tight embrace when she moved on to him. “Sorry about the car ride. I was a total bitch and you were just trying to help.”

            “Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Theon shook off the apology.

            “Doesn’t matter. I really am sorry,” she smiled apologetically.

            “I forgive you then.”

            In a hugging mood Margaery next sprung on Arya. “Hey! I wasn’t even here! Get off Tyrell!”

            “It’s Stark-Tyrell to you missy. And I know you’re going to be the best little aunt ever, so you get a pre-aunthood hug.”

            “I think she’s just trying to get under your skin,” Gendry murmured.

            “I get that,” Arya finally shoved Margaery off. She went on to hug and thank Bran and Rickon.

            “So when do we get to meet them?” Robb asked.

            Margaery smiled. “Right now. I can only bring two back at a time though. I want you two to come first. For all you’ve done, you deserve to meet them first,” she pointed to Theon and Robb.

            The guys looked at each other, then followed Margaery back to the private room. She pushed open the door to their room and let them in. Sansa sat in the bed with a sheet pulled half way up holding two little bundles of wrapped blankets. Two chubby faces poke out between them.

            Sansa stared down at them, completely enthralled and unaware of their entry. Margaery went to her bedside. “Sans, we have visitors,” she whispered.

            Sansa looked up and smiled at Theon and Robb. “Hey.”

            “They’re so small,” Theon said as he and Robb came further into the room.

            “They’re a little underweight because they were early, but the doctor said they’re both perfectly healthy.” Margaery stroked Sansa’s messy hair as Sansa spoke.

            “They’re beautiful. They’ve got your eyes and cheeks,” Robb said.

            “Their cheeks are too chubby to tell yet. They’ve got Margaery’s nose though.”

            Margaery rolled her eyes. “You’re seeing what you want to see. One has their dad’s nose. The other I think has Ned’s nose.” She picked up one of the babies, who stretched and babbled at the movement. Margaery hushed him and cooed at him.

            She carried the boy to Robb and Theon. “Want to hold him?”

            Robb opened his arms to take him. Margaery laid him gently in the cradle of his arms. She did the same with the other boy and Theon. The boy in Theon’s arms held on to his finger. “This one’s got a strong grip. Super baby strength.”

            Sansa sat up more. Robb looked down at the boy in his arms. He was so tiny. He reminded him of Jacobey when he was born. “What are their names?”

            Margaery and Sansa looked at each other, before Sansa looked back and said, “We haven’t decided yet. I wasn’t prepared for two boys.”

            Robb gave the boy back to Margaery. Theon held on a little longer before giving the other one back as well. Before escorting them back to the lobby, Margaery bent over Sansa and kissed her forehead.

           

 

            Sansa scooted over in the bed, making room for Margaery to get in. After some negotiations with the nurse and a little bribery, Margaery managed to convince the nurse to let her stay the night with Sansa.

            “You did so well today. I’m proud of you, Sansa,” Margaery murmured into her shoulder.

            “They were so beautiful. And sweet. And… they’re perfect,” Sansa stared at the ceiling. Her twins were down the hall, sleeping peacefully with the other babies. If the doctors would have let her, she would have sat in the hallway staring at them all night.

            “Just like their mum,” Margaery braces herself on her elbows to see Sansa.

            “They’re going to be a handful, aren’t they?”

            “After the chaos they caused today? Oh yeah,” Margaery nodded.

            After a moment of silence, Sansa brought up Theon’s question from earlier, “What are we going to name them?”

            “Whatever you want, darling.” Margaery whispered.

            Sansa frowned. She wanted Margaery involved in the process so she could know that these were her sons as much as her own. Obviously, she had to name one Florian. There was no debate on that. But the other…Sansa broke into a grin.

            “Aedyn,” she said. “Florian Luthor and Aedyn Eddard Stark-Tyrell.”

            Margaery rolled onto her side. “You remembered?”

            It was the one name Margaery had suggested when Sansa was being an absolute tyrant ranting on and on about the perfect baby names.

            “Aedyn’s a lovely name. And it came from you, which is lovelier,” Sansa leaned over and kissed her wife.

            “We’re a family,” she whispered against Margaery’s lips before Margaery snuggled against her chest and dozed off.

             Her little world consisted of only Margaery and her boys in that moment. It was one of the happiest days of her life so far.

 


	12. Sleeping Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut

After a long, sweltering day of work, Margaery returned home well after midnight.

            She had spent the entire night debating her fellow congressman on how to fight on balance the desires of the party with what was right. Thanks to the unexpected explosion in the mines of Casterly Rock, the economy was facing a dire outlook. In President-elect Daenerys’s speech earlier in the week, she had made it clear that government assistance would be available to all who asked for it as long as needed.

            The proclamation backed her into a corner. The only way to do so was to raise taxes. It was up to Margaery to help her fellow congressman see that. “Let’s just cut more spending from domestic police.”

            “We’re lacking officers as it is, Tyrion. That would require cutting jobs. Not to mention proper training for officers.”

            “What about military spending? We’re not at war,” Tyrion leaned back in her chair.

            “The military is minimized as much as we can afford. Part of the reason we’re not in a war is because we have a decent sized threat. One that other nations do not wish to challenge,” Margaery had reminded him.

            “We are by far the most advanced military on this planet,” Tyrion argued. “A few million dollars in the hands of a few thousand people won’t change that.”

            “We both know it would be more than a few million. Perhaps we should spend less money on funding the coal industry,” Margaery sneered. This had gone on too long with no resolution.

Tyrion dropped his head into his hand. He would never agree to that, not when he was the representative of the largest coal producing region in Westeros. “We’ll figure something out. Tomorrow morning, first thing.”

            “Fine,” Margaery huffed.        

  That had been two hours ago. She hadn’t anticipated half the highway being shut down for construction at such a late hour and so many cars being out.

            Because of the late hour and her early morning, she bypassed her usual Wednesday night ritual of wine and stand up comedy. She went straight to her and Sansa’s room and stripped down to her underwear. Lady sprawled herself out on the floor beneath the bed. Margaery was careful not to step on her. She turned up the fan before getting in bed beside Sansa, who was facing the wall. At four-months pregnant she was training herself to sleep on her side rather than her back or stomach.

            Exhausted, Margaery fell asleep almost instantly. It was dreamless and over far too quickly when she felt soft lips against her jaw and a hand cupping her breast. She blinked. The room was still dark, much too dark to be 6 a.m. Sansa’s bump of a stomach brushed against her arm as Sansa found her lips.

            Margaery clasped Sansa’s shoulder and gently nudged her away. “Go back to bed, sweetling. It’s too early,” she mumbled, her voice hoarse from sleep.

            Sansa’s warm breath filled her ear. “I’ve got an itch Margie. I need you to scratch it for me.” She went back to kissing Margaery’s chest below the collarbone.

            Margaery turned her back to Sansa. “I’ve got work early tomorrow. Go to sleep.”

            Sansa moved away and Margaery was nearly asleep again when she felt Sansa’s warm body behind hers. Lips trailed down Margaery’s neck and upper back. She felt her hand groping around her front for something to squeeze.

            This was ridiculous, and Margaery had a mind to tell her so. She sat up and pulled out of Sansa’s grasp. “Enough is enough! I’ve gotten eight hours of sleep the last three days, and at this rate I’m looking at only three more tonight. I’ve got a million fucking things to do at work, including finding work for when my term runs out because you so desperately want me to find a different job. Half the country is falling apart and your ridiculous desire to fuck at the most inconvenient time is immature. So either go to sleep or take care of it yourself. Leave me out of it.” Margaery threw herself back down to the bed and pulled the sheet over herself.

She closed her eyes to go back to sleep. Then the sniffles started. Based on how the cries were muffled, Margaery could tell Sansa was trying to let her sleep.

She felt bad. The twins had been pulling a number on her lately. They had thought the morning sickness was over, but it came back in full force two nights ago with a mess Margaery had to clean up when she got home. Cravings were starting to take over. And the hormones. The crying, the laughing, the being pissed off because she hung the towel on the wrack the wrong way.

It wasn’t Sansa’s fault.

Margaery sighed, sat up and turned on the lamp light. Sansa was crying softly into her pillow.

“Come here,” Margaery dragged Sansa against her. She wrapped her arms around Margaery’s neck and cried openly into her shoulder while Margaery rubbed her back.

“I-I’m sorry! I don’t m-mean to be a bother. I’m just so horny. And, and I’ve tried fixing it myself. I tried all night, with candles and the vibrator and everything but it won’t stop!” Margaery gently hushed Sansa, but she continued. “I just want to sleep. I can’t sleep.”

“I know, I know,” she soothed. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s not your fault. You just have a few troublemakers causing some chaos in you,” Margaery tried to lighten the situation and stroked Sansa’s stomach. The cloth stuck to her skin. Come to think of it, Sansa felt way too warm.

After Sansa stopped crying, Margaery separated them enough to lift Sansa’s shirt over her head. She tossed the shirt aside, likely landing on Lady and took a moment to relish in Sansa’s growing tits. She wouldn’t deny that this was probably her favorite part of the pregnancy so far. They were sensitive and starting to become too big for one hand.

Sansa knitted her eyebrows in confusion.

“Take off your panties, Sansa,” Margaery told her.

“Marge, what are you-” Margaery cut her off with a kiss. Sansa moaned and dipped her tongue into Margaery’s mouth. She slowly pulled back. “What about work?”

“I’ll get an extra coffee tomorrow. My sleep isn’t as important as yours. You are sleeping for three after all,” Margaery smirked. Sansa grinned.

“I love you,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too. Now get those panties off before I have to pull them off the hard way.”

Sansa shimmied her underwear down her legs.

“Good girl. Lay down with your back facing me. Trust me,” Margaery said.

She did as she was told. Margaery reached back and turned off the light. She settled herself behind Sansa. She slipped one arm beneath her and cupped a boob then squeezed. Sansa bit back a groan. Margaery took a nipple between her fingers and rolled it.

“Don’t tease. I’ve had enough of that all night,” Sansa whined.

Margaery kissed her shoulder. She reached down to Sansa’s mound and stroked before pulling Sansa’s leg back over her thigh. It opened her up for Margaery to touch her.

“You’re soaking wet. What got you in this state,” she continued circling around Sansa’s clit. Then she pressed her knee up and forward into Sansa’s vagina.

Sansa hissed. “I don’t know. I was fine and then…I started thinking I suppose.” She rocked against Margaery’s hand. Margaery moved with her to maintain the friction.

“Stop thinking. Focus on my fingers between your thighs,” Margaery picked up her pace. She could feel sweat forming against Sansa’s back. She moved her other hand down her side and held her open further.

“Margaery…” Sansa whimpered. “I need…something else…”

Margaery nipped Sansa’s neck. Hearing Sansa’s gasp, Margaery knew she was on the right track. She smirked against the mark. “Of course you do. You’re such a whore. All you want is fuck, fuck, fuck.”

            The moans grew louder and the writhing more uncontrolled. Margaery buried her nose in Sansa’s hair and breathed deep. “You’re lucky I’m such a slut for pleasing you.”

            Sansa stilled and Margaery pressed two fingers into her vagina. “Yes, my wicked girl, I’d do anything for you. Lick you until you came in my mouth. Take you over my desk at work, onlookers be damned. Whatever it takes for you to scream my name.”

            “Margaery, I’m…” Sansa whined. She was pulsing around Margaery’s fingers, on the edge of falling apart.

            “You’re not screaming. What a naughty little whore.” Margaery drew back her top hand and continued to pump her other in and out. Surprising both Sansa and herself, she smacked Sansa’s arse much louder than she anticipated. She curled her fingers and jammed them up hard.

            “Margaery! Uh!” Sansa screamed and came. Margaery slowly rocked her hips against Sansa and stroked her through her orgasm, whispering sweet words in her ear.

            When she was satisfied, Sansa pushed Margaery’s hand down. She rolled over in Margaery’s arms. “That was…”

            “Fantastic, amazing, heavenly, bliss…” Margaery grinned.

            Sansa rested her forehead against Margaery’s chin. “Just what I needed. We should get Cocky next time.”

            Margaery closed her eyes and yawned. “My fingers aren’t enough?”

            Sansa squeezed Margaery tight. “Go to sleep. You have an early morning, remember?”


	13. Ice Cream (Sansaery and the twins)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are about 18 months old.

Aedyn squealed as the swing reached its apex and came back toward Sansa. She caught it and lightly pushed him away again, earning another screech of delight. He held tight to the front protector of the only baby swing at the park. And tried to lean over the edge to see the ground.

            “Up! Up!” Aedyn shook inside the swing.

            “Sit still sweetheart,” Sansa caught the swing again and didn’t push until he sat back.

            She looked over her shoulder to check on Margaery and Florian. She held his hand as he waddled closer to the posse of ducks and tossed breadcrumbs at them. The ducks quacked and swarmed on the food, nudging each other out of the way to get the most crumbs.

            Sansa looked back in time to catch Aedyn’s swing. She pushed him lighter this time. When she turned her head again, Margaery had gathered Florian back into her arms and was walking back to the playground.

            “Okay sweetheart, it’s time to get out,” Sansa stopped the swing and walked around to lift Aedyn out of it. He babbled angrily, muttering “more” and “up”.

            “Hush now, or you won’t get your special treat,” Sansa tutted. She took him to the double stroller and tightened the buckle around him. Margaery joined her and buckled Florian into the other side.

            “Feeding ducks went well?” Sansa pushed the stroller.

            “He was scared at first. I don’t think he liked the quacking. I had to toss some crumbs before he felt comfortable, but he took to it well,” Margaery wrapped an arm around Sansa’s waist.

            Along their walk, the boys babbled all the words they knew. “Mommy”, “Mama”, “Doggy” and “poopoo” among them. Sansa and Margaery continued in content silence until they made it to the small ice cream stand at the park’s entrance. They got the boys out of the stroller. Margaery held their hands while Sansa ran the stroller to their car, only 100 feet away. She grabbed her purse out of the trunk.

            “What does everyone want?” Sansa asked.

            “Let’s just get theirs first. After they finish we can get our own,” Margaery suggested. Aedyn tugged at her shirt, so Margaery picked him up. Jealous of his brother, Florian started to cry. Sansa picked him up. He shushed quickly.

            “That’s probably for the best,” Sansa agreed. They found a spot under an oak tree, perfectly shaded from the afternoon heat. Margaery stayed with the boys while Sansa placed their first order.

            A few minutes later she returned with two miniature vanilla ice cream cones. She smiled at the way Florian’s eyes lit up when he saw the cone. She sat down and handed Margaery one of the cones after she pulled Aedyn into her lap. Sansa plopped Florian into her own.

            He immediately regretted his attempt to eat the visible part of the ice cream in one bite. His face was covered in ice cream and he shivered. His gums weren’t used to the extreme temperature. “Sweetheart, you have to eat it slowly. It’s cold,” Sansa laughed.

            “Cole” Florian repeated. The message didn’t sink in. He took another bite too large for his mouth. Ice cream dripped down his chin and onto the grass below.

            Margaery’s attempt with Aedyn wasn’t going much better. “Aedyn, it’s a treat,” Margaery moved the cone closer to his mouth. He had taken only one small bite. Now he turned his nose to the treat, squirming in Margaery’s arms. “No! Yucky!” he shouted.

            “Margaery, if he doesn’t like it don’t force-” Aedyn smacked the cone out of Margaery’s hand before Sansa could finish the sentence.

            Margaery and Aedyn stared each other down before Margaery finally relented and glanced at Sansa.

            “It’s no big deal. We have those crackers he likes in the car,” Sansa assured her.

            Florian, on the otherhand, had finished the top part of the icecream and was working his way through the cone. He made a complete mess of himself, but loved every second of it. It was a miracle that the melted ice cream was landing on the ground and not all over her legs.

            As they waited for Florian, Aedyn became fascinated with the visitors his snack attracted. Several crows landed a few feet away from them, waiting for them to move so they could scavenge the wasted cone.

            Aedyn watched curiously. They had his attention enough that he quit trying to escape Margaery’s hold.

            “All gone. Did you like it?” Sansa asked once Florian finished.

            “More?” he asked.

            “Sorry. No more, Now it’s mama and mommy’s turn.” Sansa said.

            Sansa and Margaery gathered their sons and came back to the ice cream stand. Sansa peeked back. Aedyn was intently watching the birds while Margaery followed behind her.

            “What do you want, Marge” Sansa asked. She balanced Florian in one arm to retrieve cash from her purse.

            “Mmmm. Chocolate chocolate chip,” she replied.

            “Want to share a double cone? I was just getting a vanilla for myself.”

            “What? Did he run out of lemon flavored?” Margaery jested.

            “Actually yes,” Sansa frowned. It was the first question she asked the ice cream vendor when she came to order for the boys.

            “Oh, my poor baby,” Margaery teased. “That’ll be fine Sansa. As long as I get the cherry,” she winked.

            Margaery took both of their sons so Sansa could order the ice cream. She returned with a giant cone. She licked the scoop of vanilla, watching Margaery bounce the boys in her arms.

            “I’ll trade you a baby for ice cream,” Margaery offered.

            “What kind of mother would trade her child for frozen snacks?” Sansa gasped in mock horror.

            Margaery rolled her eyes and handed Florian to Sansa. His eyes grew big when he saw Sansa pass the cone to Margaery, the same way Margaery’s did when she nipped the cherry off the top of the cone. “Mmmm, so good.”

            She licked a stripe up the side of the chocolate. She was so good with the boys. Sansa knew Margaery still doubted herself sometimes, still thought she wasn’t mother material when she had proven the opposite. She was sweet with the boys, playful, always willing to change a diaper. Simply, she was as good of a parent as a child could ask for.

            Lost in her thoughts (and distracted by the dot of ice cream at the corner of Margaery’s lips), Sansa was barely aware of Florian reaching out of her grasp for the ice cream and oblivious to Aedyn’s curious attempt to pet the crow sitting on a low branch behind Margaery’s shoulder. The sound of Aedyn’s yelp and the piercing caw from the crow jolted her from her daze. He jumped back from Margaery’s shoulder, causing Margaery to have to abandon the cone to keep Aedyn from escaping her arms. Although Sansa had a strong grip on Florian, she didn’t realize how far he had been leaning out. The tossed cone flipped sideways. Half of the ice cream landed on his face, the other half on the ground.

            Both boys began crying. Sansa scrambled through her purse and found napkins to wipe the mess off Florian. By the time she had the majority off him, Margaery had calmed Aedyn down to hiccups.

            Florian felt his cheek. “Icky! Icky! Mommy Icky!” he stated.

            “I’m going to clean up his face, babe. Keys are in the side pocket,” she turned so Margaery could get the keys out of her purse. Margaery found them and walked to the car with Aedyn, comforting him and explaining why touching strange birds was bad.

            Sansa put Florian down on the floor in front of the sink. She wet a paper towel and rubbed his face until it turned pink. “That was Mama’s ice cream. You don’t eat her food.”

            “Yummy icky,” he pouted as Sansa wiped his cheek one last time.

            She hoisted him off the ground. “Mama’s ice cream. You let her be.”

            “Sowee mommy,” Florian apologized.

            “Oh,” Sansa sighed. She couldn’t discipline such a sweet face. She kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

            She carried him back to the car, his arms wrapped around her neck. Margaery was in the passenger seat fiddling with the radio station. Sansa opened the back door and buckled Florian into his carseat.

            “What happened with Aedyn?” she asked.

            Margaery twisted around in her seat. “He was trying to play with one of the crows. When he got too close, the crow cawed and startled him. He didn’t get bit though.”

            “Mean bir-y,” Aedyn mumbled.

            “We learned a lesson, didn’t we? Petting crows is a no no,”

            Aedyn nodded.

            “Did you want another cone, Marge. I can go back and-”

            Margaery waved her off. “We have ice cream at home. I won’t have to worry about scavengers there.”

            Sansa giggled. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

            She closed the door to the backseat and got in the driver’s seat. She noticed Margaery still had the drop of ice cream on her mouth. She tilted Margaery’s head toward her and kissed the corner of her mouth, poking her tongue out enough to swipe the remaining chocolate off her.

            “You’re so sweet,” she quipped.

            Margaery gave her a lopsided grin. “You’re such a dork.” She turned off the radio. They listened to the boys babble, and then softly sleep for the entirety of the drive while the sun began dipping below the horizon.


	14. Office Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a fulfillment for a request from my Tumblr 200 follower promptathon. Fair warning, this chapter is mostly smut. (And not very good smut)

The plan had always been to end the night unraveling Sansa and ravishing her. Doing so in her office instead of their bed was merely a detour in the plan. Fortunately, Margaery was more than prepared and willing to adjust.

            She thudded against the door, all of Sansa’s weight pressed against her. Margaery pressed her finger to her lips to shush Sansa and wound up bursting in a fit of giggles.

            The door gave way behind her, and Margaery barely managed to catch herself before hitting the floor. Sansa leaned into the door handle to prevent herself from doing the same.

            “Ssshhhh!” Sansa shushed way too loudly.

            “What did you say was in those drinks?” Margaery asked as Sansa fumbled with the door lock. The turn lock kept sticking as Sansa twisted right. Frustrated, she gave a hard turn to the left, and it snapped into place.

            Too excited to notice, Sansa flipped on the light and practically rushed Margaery, pressing her hand firmly against Margaery’s lower thigh and pushing up the bottom hem of her dress up to the curve of her arse. Her thumb hooked into the waist band of Margaery’s leggings.

            “Some sorta whiskey mix I think,” Sansa mumbled before kissing her.

            “Gotta- gotta ask…bout it,” Margaery rushed between kisses. She dropped her purse to the ground with a thud. This was supposed to wait until they made it home.

            Margaery nudged Sansa’s cardigan down her arms. Sansa shook her arms out of the sleeves. She backed Margaery against the desk with little grace before fiddling with the belt around her waist. Margaery could have sworn Sansa’s desk was a few inches shorter, but that had to be her mind playing tricks in the heat of the moment.

            Margaery wrapped her arms around Sansa’s neck and rubbed soft circles against her shoulders. Sansa’s tongue flicked out, eliciting a soft moan. Finally Sansa managed to nudge the belt through the buckle. It clanged against the desk before falling to the floor. She pushed the sweater dress back up her previous work.

            Sansa whimpered when Margaery pulled out of the kiss, then sighed when she kissed the spot behind her ear.

            “Quiet, love,” Margaery murmured as she made her way down Sansa’s jaw.

            “I’m tired of quiet. We have to be quiet at home. We have to be quiet when we visit your family. I don’t care right now who hears,” Sansa stepped back to yank her blouse over her head. She hobbled around trying to tear her boots off. Margaery pulled her own boots off pulled the sweater dress over her head. She didn’t remember the book shelf in the corner being in the office the last time she came to visit. It must have been a new addition.  

            Down to her underwear, Sansa flung open drawers. “No. No. Darn it, where is it?”

            Margaery pinned Sansa against the desk. She pressed a quick kiss to her lips, then her nose. “What are you looking for?”

            Even in the dark office, Margaery could see Sansa’s cheeks redden. “I…I may have toy that I, uh, keep here.”

            Margaery wiggled her eyebrows and inched back. “A toy? What kind of books have you been reading in here?”

            “I only have it for emergencies,” Sansa defended herself. She gripped Margaery’s hips and tugged her forward. “Like now.”

            “And when you’ve read hundreds of pages of trashy romance novels?” Margaery dragged her nails up Sansa’s arms and smirked.

            Sansa covered her crimson blush and kissed Margaery. Margaery took a step back to break the kiss, but Sansa stumbled after her, nearly toppling them to the ground. Margaery giggled and staggered to the purse she dropped earlier. She dug until she found what she was looking for.

            “Will this suffice?” she waved the dildo as she sauntered back to Sansa.

            “Why do you have that in there?” Sansa asked.

            Margaery shrugged. “A woman always comes prepared. Now drop your panties, Sansa. I want you on your desk.”

            Sansa nodded enthusiastically and stripped off the last of her underwear. Margaery did the same and followed her to the edge of the desk.

            She’d been waiting for ages to do this. The number of times she’d dreamt of doing this here embarrassed her. It scarcely mattered that they were tipsy at an office party, not when Sansa was sitting so wantonly on the desk, legs spread and arousal dripping onto the wood.

            Margaery strapped the harness around her waist and tightened it. Sansa’s eyes were glued to the fake cock. She unconsciously licked her lips. Margaery stepped between her legs and cupped a boob, still trapped within Sansa’s bra. “I’m going to fuck you on your desk, Sansa.” She murmured sweetly.

            Sansa shivered against her. She grabbed Margaery by the back of the neck and pulled her in for another kiss. This one was slow, her tongue mapping out Margaery’s mouth. Margaery came closer until she felt the toy pressing back into her. She reached for the base of the toy and dragged the tip against Sansa’s open slit.

            Sansa moaned into Margaery’s mouth, fisting her hair and jutting her hips forward to achieve more friction between herself and the cock.

            Margaery repeated the motion again and again, until Sansa locked her legs around Margaery’s thighs. She reached for the toy and positioned it at her entrance. “I want this Margie. I want this so bad.”

            Margaery thrusted her hips up, having to stand on the balls of her feet to fill Sansa. While she earned an appreciative groan, she quickly realized this angle wasn’t going to work. The desk was too high for her to thrust up. Sansa squeezed her shoulders and kissed her neck, but Margaery could tell this wasn’t what either of them had been planning. Frustrated, Margaery shoved blindly at the desk behind Sansa. Papers and pens spilled to the floor. Sansa lost her balance on the edge and fell backward, her head barely avoiding smacking into the computer keyboard.

            A litany of apologies formed in her mouth. The way Sansa groaned kept them there. “Gods that feels better,” she sighed. “How do you always know what I need?”

            Rather than admit the accident, Margaery preened. “It’s a gift, love.” She pressed her hips forward, rewarded with Sansa tightening her legs around her and with the view of her face scrunching in pleasure. From there, she developed a slow rhythm, driving deep into Sansa, and pulling out. Her nails dug into Sansa’s hips to keep her in place.

            She pushed back, meeting Margaery for every thrust. Margaery smoothed one hand to the center of Sansa’s stomach and ran it lightly over abdomen up to the valley of her breasts, gradually picking up the pace with her hips.

            She leaned up and pressed two kisses to Sansa’s chest, driving the dildo into a new angle. Sansa jerked at the switch. Her hips pushed harder than before, driving the opposite end hard against Margaery’s clit.

            “Sans,” she whimpered from both pleasure and pain.

            Sansa didn’t seem to care. She pushed hard against Margaery again. Not one to be manhandled, Margaery gave it back. She pushed up into Sansa again, and began a relentless pace.

            “Is this what you think about when you read that filthy porn? Who do you imagine fucking you like an office whore on your desk?” Margaery demanded.

            Sansa tilted her chin up and moaned. “You. You baby, you. Only you.”

            “Only me,” Margaery murmured. Sansa’s abdomen twitched beneath her touch, her muscles tightening with each movement Margaery made.

            “You’re so good to me,” Sansa whined as she came over the edge. Her words, combined with the dripping arousal Margaery felt when her hips brushed the edge of the desk took her over too.

            Margaery rested her head against Sansa’s stomach to catch her breath. Sansa’s stomach rumbled as she laughed breathlessly. After several moments, Margaery got back to her feet. She helped Sansa sit up before unstrapping the toy and letting it hit the floor with a thud.

            “You think anyone heard us?” Margaery asked as she gathered their scattered clothes. She gave Sansa her things before pulling hooking her bra on.

            “Pfft. These walls are sound proof,” Sansa pulled the cami over her head, foregoing her bra. She pulled up her jeans. “Maybe we should soundproof the walls at home. The boys are getting close to an age where this sort of thing could traumatize them.”

            As Margaery pulled her dress over her head, muffled voices permeated outside the door. “What happened to sound proof?” Margaery hissed, running around to find her boots .

            “From this side, not the outside!” Sansa retorted. The door handle jiggled.

            “I could have sworn I left the top lock unlocked,” the voice said.

            Realizing they were running out of time, and with few options to hide, Sansa ducked down behind the desk. She folded herself up to fit in the small rectangular space below the desk. Margaery squeezed in with her, contorted so that Twister looked like an elementary school warm up stretch.

            They held their breaths as the lock clicked and the door opened. Too stubby legs walked in while two pencil thin ones waited outside the door.

            “Bloody hell. I’ve told Daario to clean up his mess when he’d done. A hurricane could have gone through here.” Sam Tarly muttered.

            Crap. This wasn’t her office. Sam’s office was the one across the hall from hers. Margaery’s eyes narrowed. Sansa could practically hear the threat “You better pray to those tree gods he doesn’t look down.”

            “Have him clean it in the morning,” Sam’s wife, Gilly, said. “The sitter’s already called twice. She has school tomorrow, Sam.”

            Sam huffed. “Alright. The paper’s right here anyway…What the? Did he have water on my desk. Gods I hope it’s water. A bit sticky for water though.”

            Sansa smacked her hand over her mouth. He didn’t… She’d never be able to look him in the eye again.

            Sam turned off the light and shut the door behind him. Margaery and Sansa stayed curled in their space an extra moment to be sure he was truly gone.

            “How the hell did you not realize this wasn’t your office?” Margaery fell backward in her attempt to untangle herself from Sansa, barely avoiding cracking her back against the chair.

            “I was a bit preoccupied and a tiny bit tipsy. It’s an honest mistake,” Sansa crawled out of the crevice.

            “You do realize your boss just touched your cum, right?” Margaery asked.

            “Yes he made that quite obvious thank you! Seven hells!” Sansa tugged on her boots as Margaery did the same. She picked up the dildo off the ground and shoved it into Margaery’s purse. “How did he not notice all this strewn about his office?”

            “When it comes to Sam, it’s best not to ask why, and just thank the Seven.” Although Margaery felt far more sober now, it was still probably not the best idea to drive. “I’m going to call a cab, sweetling. We have our own sitter to relieve.”

            Sansa grabbed a tissue from Margaery’s purse and wiped the corner of Sam’s desk. “For what it’s worth, I did have fun,” Sansa grinned shyly.

            Despite her embarrassment, Margaery couldn’t help but smile back. “I know you did. You made that quite obvious, my little office-”

            Sansa shoved her shoulder. “Don’t you dare start calling me that. That was a one time thing.”

            “Sure,” Margaery muttered, pinching Sansa’s arse as she skipped past her and out the door. “Whatever you say, love.”


	15. Costume Prep (Sansa + Margaery pre-relationship)

In the scheme of holidays, Halloween had never been Margaery’s favorite: that right belonged to Valentine’s Day. Still, she had always enjoyed the sentiment of the holiday: the kids trick-or-treating, the parties, the spooky stories.

            This year, it had rocketed to the top of her “I can’t wait for this day to end” list and it had nothing to do with the holiday itself. It was because her gorgeous, sweet, wonderful best friend had begged and pleaded with her to help her costume for a Halloween party tonight. Dickon Tarly was hosting it. Of course, Margaery hadn’t known that until after she’d committed. If she had known, she certainly wouldn’t put her self through the punishment of listening to her crush go on about how cute and sweet Dickon was. Dickon, who for the life of him couldn’t point out where his home was on a map, but had a smile that made all the sophomore college girls swoon. Including Sansa. In the last two weeks, Sansa had gone on two dates him and both times she had called Margaery immediately afterward to gush about him.

            For her part, Margaery never told her how she truly felt about Sansa or Dickon. It wasn’t her place. Dickon wasn’t necessarily a bad guy, he just wasn’t the type of guy that would make Sansa happy. He wasn’t intellectual, and his sportsman interests would eventually bore Sansa. That was for Sansa to learn on her own. Margaery couldn’t make Sansa move on from her crush on Dickon anymore than she could make Sansa notice how much Margaery cared for her beyond friendship or the flirtations she seemed oblivious to.

            “Hold still,” Margaery commanded. She tilted Sansa’s head back to put the finishing touches on her mascara. Sansa’s hair was pushed back and fluffed up before adding hair spray, but she as still wearing her and t-shirt.

            “I hope he likes it. It’s such a cute costume,” Sansa blinked a few times to avoid rubbing her eyes and ruining the job Margaery had just completed.

            “Sansa, don’t base your whole night on the opinion of one boy. Have fun, drink, dance. If he doesn’t like the costume, well screw him,” Margaery screwed the caps back on to the make up bottles. She flipped open the blush container and softly brushed Sansa’s cheeks.

            “I know, I know. I just… I want to walk in there and know that I’m the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. Like every other time we’ve been to a party and you get a fanclub of people following you,” Sansa sighed.

            “You are beautiful. And I’m not saying that as your friend, I’m saying that as a person who has eyes.”

             The blush on Sansa’s cheek was reinforced by an actual blush. “Can you check on Lady’s bowl while I get changed?”

            After refilling the bowl with water, Margaery came and stumbled to a stop. Her eyes popped and her heart began racing.

            Sansa was bent over, strapping on her red heels, unaware of Margaery  trying to avoid checking out Sansa’s bare leg up to the slit of her red dress, which came up dangerously high on her thigh.

            When she stood, she had to readjust her boobs back into the dress. They were centimeters from bursting over the top of the dress.

            Margaery fought to keep her gaze on Sansa’s face once she turned around. She then made a show of checking Sansa out, both for her own pleasure and so Sansa would believe her when she said, “Sweetling, people are going to have heart palpitations when they see you. You put the sex in sexy.”

            “Oh wait! Almost forgot the gloves,” Sansa grabbed the purple gloves off the desk and pulled them over her hands. “There! I hope Dickon agrees with you. He’s going as a mobster, so I figured what better way to compliment him than as Jessica Rabbit, bombshell extraordinaire,” Sansa laughed at her own joke.

            Margaery’s smile faltered, but only for a moment. “I’ll call your ride. Mya’s coming to get you, right?”

            Sansa nodded. “Thank you so much Margaery. You have no idea what this means to me. And thank you for watching Lady too. I know she appreciates a friend during her recovery.” Lady had been sick with a stomach flu, another reason Sansa had been so desperate for Margaery’s help.

            She came forward and pulled Margaery into a hug. Margaery closed her eyes and let herself relish in the fact that in her heels, Sansa’s chest was practically a pillow. Margaery hugged her back. “You know I’d do just about anything for you,” she let go and so did Sansa. “Except kill. Actually, I take that back. It depends on the person.”

            Sansa rolled her eyes as Margaery dialed Mya’s number.

            Once Sansa left, it was a quiet night. Lady slept most of the time, and after the second Purge movie, Margaery dozed off.

            When she woke up, there was something tickling her scalp. She reached up and caught a hand. She clumsily sat up and found Sansa sitting on the edge of the couch, her hand in mid air where it had been stroking Margaery’s hair.       

            “Hey, how was the party?” Margaery asked.

            “It was fun. Danced a bit, had a couple of drinks,” Sansa muttered. All the energy she had before party was replaced with a zoned out, pensive Sansa.

            Deciding to resume her role as supportive best friend, Margaery took Sansa’s hand. “What about Dickon? Did he pass out when he saw you in that sexy number?”

            “Oh he loved it, but…I don’t think things between us will work out. We don’t click like I thought we did,” Sansa frowned, her eyes locked on Margaery’s hand covering her own.

            She pressed her fingers into Sansa’s wrist. “You didn’t let that keep you from enjoying yourself though. That’s good. And there are other people.”

            Margaery’s heart bounced when Sansa’s eyes flickered up at the word “people.” The moment of hope was gone as quickly as it came. Sansa got up and straightened out her dress.

            “Yeah. I’m super tired. You can stay here, if you like, but I need to go to sleep,” Sansa yawned. A bit exaggerated, but convincing enough.

            For a second, Margaery thought about telling her flat out. There was no other man to worry about, so what did she have to lose? A year and a half of friendship, a confidant, and a person she felt as close to as any of her family. So she let Sansa go. Now wasn’t the time to e forward. Though he was denser than the smog surrounding the mines in the Westerlands, Dickon meant something to Sansa. Confessing her feelings for Sansa on the same night as a break up would be poor taste. For now, Margaery resolved to stick to her flirtations. It was a long game, and she was here to stay.

            She flashed a small grin as Sansa glanced back. Sansa smiled back, a tired grin, but a genuine one. “Goodnight, Marge. Sweetdreams.”

            “Goodnight Sansa,” Margaery fell back on the couch the moment Sansa’s door shut. If only the long game could be a little shorter.


	16. First Christmas

Waking up early on Christmas had always been a Stark family tradition. Early Christmas even bed times guaranteed all the kids would be out of bed before dawn. Even when Sansa was old enough to know Santa wasn’t a real person who visited every house in the world, excitement and anticipation for the presents still drove her to challenge Arya as the first one up to open presents.

            For the first time in years, Sansa felt like a child on Christmas. The boys wouldn’t remember their first Christmas, but Sansa and Margaery would.

            “Look! He ate all the cookies!” Sansa pointed at the empty plate of cookies she and Margaery decorated with the twins last night.

            Florian tucked his head back into Sansa’s shoulder and yawned. Margaery was holding Aedyn, who was slightly more awake than his brother and mother. Unable to contain her excitement, Sansa had woken up Margaery before dawn. A cup of coffee had done little to improve her grouchiness.

            “Sansa, they don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Margaery groaned.

            “Shush,” Sansa reprimanded. “Who wants to see,” Sansa gasped dramatically, “the presents! From Santa!”

            Sansa darted to the living room, where the tree was still lit, surrounded by boxes of presents. She plopped down by the coffee table from which the stockings were hung. She pulled Florian’s stocking off the holder. It was red with a large penguin face in the middle. Margaery sat beside her, doing the same with Aedyn’s stocking with a reindeer face.

            With one arm around Florian to keep him upright on her knee, Sansa began digging through the stocking. She pulled out the first stocking stuffer: a blue pacifier. “What’s this! What did Santa get you?” she gasped. She held the pacifier in front of Florian. He looked at it, then went back to pulling on Sansa’s top.

            Margaery took a different tactic. She dumped out the contents of the stocking in front of her and Aedyn and gave Aedyn free reign to do whatever he liked. He picked up the tiny yellow blanket, dropped it, and moved on to the pink and blue rattle.

            “Marge, you’re supposed to show him all the presents,” Sansa gestured to the mess.

            “He’s not going to be interested in all of them at this very moment. Neither is Florian, for that matter,” Margaery rolled her eyes.

            Sansa hadn’t noticed that Florian had gotten hold of the stocking. He turned it around until he could pull on the enclosed end, and spilled all of thepresents out of the stocking.

            “Florian!” Sansa barely restrained herself from cursing. This wasn’t how she imagined her boys reacting to their presents.

            Florian was more engrossed with the stocking than with any of the presents. He squeezed it and shook it up and down, giggling when the plush beak jiggled up and down.

            “That’s not a toy, sweetheart,” Sansa grabbed the stocking and gently pulled it out of Floian’s grasp. Florian’s face crinkled, his lips puffed into a pout, his face grew red on the verge of tears. Sansa picked up his green and yellow rattle that fell out of the stocking and shook it. “Here. Don’t you want to play with the presents Santa got you?”

            Florian shoved the rattle out of Sansa’s hand and shrieked. He reached for the stocking.

            “Let him have the stocking. It won’t hurt anything,” Margaery said. Unlike Florian, Aedyn was completely content with his presents.

            Sansa sighed, but relented to Margaery’s advice. Florian squeezed the penguin beak again and giggled. There was no sign that he had been upset just a moment before.

            “Sansa look this way,” Margaery called.

            Sansa turned her head.

            “Say cheese,” Margaery smiled, her phone held up to take a photo. Sansa grinned and Margaery snapped a few photos.

            By the time the twins had finished with the stocking toys and were ready to move on to the big presents, everyone was wide awake. Sansa scooted to the boxes with Florian in her lap. Margaery chose to walk around with Aedyn.

            They started with the biggest box, which was a playpin for the boys. With a twin on each side, Sansa helped Florian find a grip on the wrapping paper and pull up. The paper ripped. Sansa tossed the strip to the side and tried to help Florian find another place to pull, but this time he became distracted by the first piece.

            “Come on Florian, there’s more,” Sansa groaned. This morning was more frustrating than she had imagined. Why couldn’t he cooperate, like Aedyn. He was tearing piece after piece off.

            When Sansa looked up to see how far along Aedyn was on his side, she found that Aedyn hadn’t made any progress at all. Like Florian, he was playing with a pile of wrapping paper, crunching it up and pulling tape off. Margaery, however, had made pulled off nearly the entire side.

            “Margaery! That’s for the boys to do! They need to open their presents,” Sansa sighed.

            Margaery tossed the last piece aside. “Sweetling, you can see they have no interest in this. They have all this colorful wrapping paper they’d rather play with.” She tugged the box closer to her so she could finish off the other side as well. “The way they see it, the wrapping is the present. They’ll eventually play with all this other stuff, but they’re happy now.”

            “But half the fun on Christmas is opening the presents!” Sansa pouted. She crossed her arms over her chest like a child.

            Margaery laughed. “That’s our fun, then. We can open the presents, they can play in the mess.”

            “I guess,” Sansa grumbled.

            Margaery picked up one of the presents and handed it to Sansa. They tore through the rest of them pretty quickly. The boys eventually tired of the paper and moved on to the singing train that was part of Aedyn’s pile of gifts.

            After all the boys’ toys had been opened, Margaery and Sansa watched them poke buttons and clap their hands and garble over the train as it played song after song. Even Lady decided to join the fun, nuzzling between the boys with her new squeaky toy. The living room was covered in wrapping paper that would need to be thrown away.  Sansa couldn’t help but smile.

            Margaery laid her head on Sansa’s shoulder. “I think this one goes in the success column.”

            Sansa grinned down at her. “It goes in the major success column. Oh wait! We almost forgot our presents.”

            Sansa stretched her long arms behind her, laying out to grab the last two presents under the tree. She sat back up and handed her present to Margaery.

            She was about to tear into the paper when she noticed the boys stretchingn toward them, babbling on and on. Sansa picked up Florian and sat him in her lap, then Aedyn. “You want to open this for mummy?”

            Sansa held out the present and let the boys tear apart the paper on top. Florian giggled and tried to put a tiny piece of the paper in his mouth. Margaery lunged out in time to keep him from doing so.

            “Not so fast you little bugger!” Margaery laughed.

            Sansa took the lid off the top of the dull brown card board box. She lifted the book that was inside and read the cover. “Babe! How did you even get this?!” she exclaimed. It was a first edition Mark Twain novel.

            “Hours of endless searching and a very intense bidding war.”

            Sansa gently placed the novel back in its box and handed it to Margaery to put it on a shelf the boys couldn’t reach. “Thank you. I love it.”

“Can you get mine? My hands are a little full.”

            Sansa laughed to herself and unwrapped her present to Margaery. Unlike Margaery’s gift, hers was still in the original box.

            “Merry Christmas!” Sansa held up the box.

            “Ah! I knew I shouldn’t have let father show you all those photos of me!” Margaery giggled.

            It was a batman lamp with a bat signal emblem to outline the light. Every photo Sansa had seen of young Margaery was her in pretty dresses, or playing with her brothers outside, or in the garden with her grandmother picking flowers. Until, of course, Mace had brought a new photo album with him when he and Alleria came to meet the boys. It was filled with photos of Margaery as a middle schooler with DC clothing and reading comic books. She was a nerd and Sansa couldn’t get enough of it.

            “But you like it right?” Sansa put the box down.

            “Of course I do,” Margaery touched her forehead against Sansa’s.

            “Good,” Sansa whispered. “Because part two of your gift is waiting in our bedroom and I’d really like you to use them tonight.”

            Margaery smirked. “I’d love to. Too bad I’ll be sleeping instead.”

            Aedyn yawned and started crying, but stopped when Margaery tucked his blanket around him. Sansa kissed the top of his head.“This morning was worth it.”

            In the end, Florian and Aedyn’s first Christmas was everything Sansa had anticipated.


	17. Even in the Middle of the Night

Perhaps this had all been a mistake, Margaery thought. Slamming the door did little to relieve Margaery’s frustration after she returned home from her date with Sansa. If it could be called a date at all, because for Sansa it seemed like a torturous, obligatory dinner that she wanted no part in.

It was midterms week, so understandably they were both stressed out. The date was meant to be relaxing and give them a chance to take a break from studying. All Margaery knew was that she made a passing comment about Sansa’s outfit, and Sansa snapped at her. The date only went downhill, as seemingly everything Margaery said just pissed off Sansa more.

They’d been together for one blissful month, yet Margaery picked up on small oddities in Sansa’s behavior every now and then. How she would ramble excitedly about her book club meeting, only to shut down out of nowhere, not even opening up when Margaery prodded her to go on. How she would sometimes flinch when Margaery’s fingers brushed against her arm. How certain phrases could upset her and Margaery had no idea why. The only thing that had changed between them was the context of their relationship.

            After this night, Margaery wondered whether Sansa wanted this relationship. Perhaps Valentine’s had been a spur of the moment reaction for her. No one wanted to be alone on the most romantic day of the year. Margaery loved every moment of calling Sansa her girlfriend, but perhaps Sansa didn’t feel the same. It would be better to end it now while they were still good friends than to drag it out and wind up hating each other.

            She’d have to finish thinking through her relationship tomorrow though. She had an early exam. She was prepared for it, but she never liked waking up in time to get to that class without being tardy. Her foreign affairs professor, whom insisted that the class call her by her first name Missandei, was usually lenient about tardies. Not so on exam days, as Margaery had learned her freshman year. She had been fortunate that the professor had been willing to let her take the exam with a marked down grade.

            She settled down for bed at a reasonable time and set her alarm clock. She was out at a decent time.

            When her phone began chirping, Margaery wasn’t immediately sure that it wasn’t just her dream. She blinked her eyes a few times as her eyes focused on the bright LED lights illuminating her bedside table. It wasn’t her alarm noise, it was her phone.

            Margaery sighed and reached for her phone, turning onto her back to answer. She tossed one of her arms across her forehead.

            “Hello,” Margaery grumbled.

            “Hi Margaery,” Sansa croaked on the other end. Her voice sounded as though her throat was lined with chunks of gravel. After a moment of sleep hazed confusion, Margaery pieced together a theory.

            “Sansa, have you been crying?” Margaery asked.

            Sansa sniffled loudly. “Listen, about earlier, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped on you and I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that and I should be grateful to have you and I don’t want to scare you off but here I am calling you in the middle of the night,” Sansa’s words jumble together as she began to cry again. Margaery sat up in the middle of her bed.

            “Sansa,” but Sansa’s crying became harder. “Sans, I need you to stop crying, sweetling,” Margaery soothed. Sansa regained control of herself, sniffling here and there. “What happened?”

            Sansa sniffled than barked a laugh. “You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

            “No, I won’t. You’re upset. You’ve been upset for a while, haven’t you?”

            Sansa grew quiet. Margaery waited for Sansa’s response patiently. She wanted to know what was hurting Sansa so she could fix it. Eventually Sansa said, “Joffrey Baratheon.”

            “Your high school boyfriend?” Margaery tilted her head. She didn’t know much about the boy. Son of the king’s ex-wife, Joffrey had opted to take his mother’s maiden name during the divorce. That’s when Sansa had started dating him. In all, they lasted three years, but Sansa never spoke fondly of those years. She hardly spoke of them at all. From what Margaery gathered from Sansa and her friends though, there was nothing good to say from back then.

            “What I had with him, it wasn’t healthy. I excused a lot of the things he did and said because he was handsome, and could be charming when it benefited him. He was eventually cruel to me too, and I excused it then as well,” Sansa’s voice sounded hollow on the other end.

            “I-I had a dream about him tonight and some of the things he said and threatened to do to me. You must think me the biggest hypocrite. I snapped at you one moment and the next, you’re the only one I want to talk to about my mess.” Margaery was up and out of bed, looking for half way decent clothing to throw on. She wasn’t going to leave Sansa by herself to fight with her own demons.

            “I’m on my way over darling,” Margaery laced her shoes on.

            “What? No, Marge. You don’t have to. Gods you have that exam tomorrow too, don’t you? I’m such an inconsiderate jerk. Stupid,” she heard Sansa’s hand smack against her forehead.

            “Sansa, nothing you say right now is going to stop me from coming over. I care very deeply about you. We may be girlfriends, but before the romance and dates, you were my best friend. As a friend, I want to be there with you and I want to help you. May I do that?” Margaery asked.

            The regret in Sansa’s voice was audible as she muttered, “The front door will be unlocked.”

            A few minutes and several traffic law violations later, Margaery swept into Sansa’s apartment. Sansa, however, was not in the dark living room. “Sansa? Are you in your room?” Margaery called. She stripped off her jacket and hung it neatly on Sansa’s coat rack and lined up her shoes underneath it. Lady bounded out of the room to greet her.

            “Yeah, Marge,” Sansa called back. She sounded more relaxed now than she had on the phone, which Margaery took as a good sign. Margaery honored the obligatory ritual of scratching Lady on the back of the ears before following the pooch into Sansa’s bedroom. In the middle of the bed, Sansa sat reading a textbook.

            “Hey, sweetling,” Margaery crawled onto the bed. She put her arm around Sansa’s shoulder.

            Sansa leaned her head back against Margaery’s shoulder. “Marge you shouldn’t have come. I’ll get over this ridiculous fit I’m going through. Your test is more important.”

            Margaery shrugged. “It’s just a test. And you know what they call the poli sci student that graduates with the lowest GPA?”

            Sansa tilted her head up so she could meet Margaery’s eyes. “Least likely to bullshit their way out of a scandal?”

            Margaery couldn’t stop herself from tossing her head back and roaring with laughter. “True, but I was going to say ‘a politician’.”

            Sansa scooted back against the headboard.

            “I’ll be fine, Sansa. What I’m concerned about it you. Are you alright?” Margaery’s hand rested against Sansa’s knee.

            Sansa shrugged. “It was just a dream. I overreacted to it. There’s nothing else too it really.”

            Margaery shook her head. “It’s not just a dream. This has been going on for a bit. I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t talk to me about what’s going on in your head. Your brain is full of intelligence and wit and sass, but sometimes it’s hard to tell what you’re thinking or why you’re thinking it. And that’s coming from a woman whose entire life is built on reading people.”

            Sansa sat quietly for a moment. She stared at her hands folded together in her lap, her fingers flexing and twining until she murmured. “It was just a dream. I’ve been having the same dream about him over and over for the last couple of weeks. I haven’t had any for months now. I thought I was finished with nights like this.”

            Margaery scooted up next to Sansa and squeezed her knee to encourage to keep going.

            “I guess…some of the things you say, you say the same things he used to say. Not when he was being awful and mean. He could be so charming,” Sansa’s eyes met Margaery’s. “You’re not like him. For years I thought I loved him, and with every guy after him I never felt anything like what I thought I had with him.”

            “You’re scared,” Margaery realized. Sansa ducked her head in embarrassment.

            She could leave now. They both had valid reason to end it right now, preserve their friendship and walk away before it went beyond a point where they couldn’t return.

            “I want to give us a fair chance,” Sansa finally said. “There’s something different about you, Margaery. I’ve felt it since the day our friendship began I think. I thought I was over all of it, after all this time. But I suppose something about the way you make me feel triggered my defenses?”

            “Can we make a deal, Sansa?” Margaery leaned forward slightly.

            “What kind of deal?” Sansa’s brows furrowed.

            “I want us to have a fair chance too. But even if whatever we have falls apart, I want us to always be friends. I promise that I’ll be patient with you and listen to you whenever you want to talk, any time, any place and to be there when you need me. And I want you to promise me that you won’t bottle up these emotions. That you’ll talk to me when things start getting bad in there,” Margaery poked Sansa’s temple. She stuck out her hand halfway between herself and Sansa. “Do we have a deal?”

            Sansa nipped her lip as she failed to fight back a grin. It took every bit of Margaery’s self control to not kiss her while she made that adorable face. Sansa stared at Margaery’s hand for a moment, then glanced at Margaery’s cocksure grin. “Deal,” she shook Margaery’s hand. The handshake quickly turned against Margaery. Sansa pulled her arm, bringing her close enough for Sansa to yank her in for a kiss.

            They were both smiling when Sansa finally pulled away.

            Margaery’s smile faltered when she caught a glimpse of the time on the alarm clock on the side table beside Sansa’s bed. “Crap. I’ll be lucky to get two hours of sleep by the time I get home.”

            Sansa turned her head to read the clock herself. It was almost 4. “You’re sleeping here tonight.”

            “I have a final tomorrow. Nice as your couch is, it’s not going to get me optimal sleep for tomorrow,” Margaery pushed herself off the edge of the bed.

            Sansa caught hold of her arm before she could make it anywhere. “It’s a good thing that’s where Lady sleeps and not you, then. You’re sleeping in my bed. You’re 15 minutes closer to school from here, and you get a warm, cozy snuggle buddy to help you fall asleep faster. I believe this is what you call a win-win.” Sansa winked and went to her closet.

            “Are you sure, sweetling?” Margaery asked. “I don’t want to impose.”

            Sansa came back with an extra blanket. She spread it across the bed. “Every second you spend questioning whether or not I want to sleep with my gorgeous is a second of sleep you lose before your exam.” She got back in the bed and pulled the covers over herself, then patted mattress beside her. “Well come on now!”

            Conceding, Margaery shut the bedroom door and stripped off her pants. She laid down under the covers, wrapping Sansa’s arm around herself. With a final check to make sure she set her phone alarm for the proper time, she snuggled back against Sansa. “If I fail this test tomorrow, I fully expect you to pay for dinner.”

            Sansa leaned over her and kissed her cheek. “Baby, I’m taking you out to dinner regardless. Good night.”

            “Good night,” Margaery yawned.


End file.
